


Racist Blondes Visit Damballah Island

by SlutWriter



Category: Damballah Island, Original Work
Genre: BBC, Ball Sucking, Blondes, Deep throat, F/F, F/M, Multi, N-word, Raceplay, Racial Degradation, Racial slurs, Rough Oral Sex, Sloppy Head, bimbo, excessive cum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-10 19:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17432210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlutWriter/pseuds/SlutWriter
Summary: Vivian and Stacey Whiteside are going on a lily-white vacation to Europe... but end up getting on the wrong plane and arriving on an island filled with big black cock! When it seems that Stacey might fall victim to temptation, her mother takes matters into her own hands! (And throat!)A sequel to "Racist Blondes Go Black", like that story, this is inspired by the interracial artwork of the PiT. The Damballah Island setting is his.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The following work is a taboo raceplay story, written for the purposes of titillation and meant to fetishize the tawdriness of racial prejudice and the trope of black sexual menace. It contains many racially-charged language and slurs. Read at your own risk.

 

>   
>  “Mom is taking me on a vacation to Europe! She says that we really need to get back to our ethnic roots and we that we only fucked all those black guys because we gave in to a PC culture of inclusion. Whatever! I can’t wait to shop and go clubbing with hot European boys!” - Stacey

 

Vivian Whiteside and her 18-year-old daughter Stacey were both dressed to travel as they zoomed toward the airport in their BMV convertible. Vivian’s sleeveless jumpsuit was a dazzling white that contrasted with her beach body and tan; it managed to show off both her toned and shapely shoulders, as well as the massive, perfectly hemispherical shapes of her gravity-defying breasts. The V-neck wrap design didn’t cross up until just above her naval, leaving a generous window of tanned, golden-complexioned cleavage and inner boob on display. Her nipples were also visible, as they poked into the fabric, lurking below the surface in raised circles two inches across. She wore no bra, and her chest seemed ready to burst free at any moment.

Stacey’s outfit was more befitting her age - a floral lace halter top with a white bikini visible beneath, cutting off well above the midriff and giving way to a pair of distressed denim shorts that all but disintegrated to threads at the mid-pocket; when she walked, the jiggling curves of her tanned bubble butt would be visible as they bounced in frayed jean hammocks. As Vivian went on and on about their impending trip, Stacey listened with a spoiled brat’s bored expression and occasionally took a drag off a pink vape pen that had been bedazzled with glitter. Like her mother, her top seemed insufficient to the task of containing her extremely large and perky breasts, which forced the triangular bra cups outward far enough that the strings were raised away from her skin

In many ways the two were mirror images of each other. The elder Whiteside’s tits were a bit larger, but in the contest of whose hair the blondest, it was a tie. Vivian’s fell down over her shoulders in a movie starlet cascade, and Stacey’s were done up in a pair of precocious pigtails, but otherwise it was a dead heat - sun-kissed light gold without so much as a strand of anything darker. Likewise, their eyes were of an identical piercing aquamarine shade, the striking color of a Carribean beach. At 18, Stacey was every bit as much a tiny trophy teen as her mother Vivian was a hot bimbo MILF at 38.

The backseat of the convertible was stacked high with expensive-looking luggage, for neither of them was willing to go anywhere without a generous supply of clothes for every occasion. As the car - license plate “TROPHIES” - wound though sparse traffic, Vivian talked excitedly over the purr of the engine.

“Just imagine it!” she said. “Two weeks in Europe! It’s such a cultured, traditional place!” She rummaged near her hip, taking a brochure that featured an image of the Palace of Versailles before tossing it into the backseat with disinterest and coming up with what she was really seeking - her lipstick. Vivian didn’t care about seeing the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Crown Jewels of London, or Brandenburg Gate, and her daughter cared even less. Rather, she and Stacey intended to spend two weeks buying clothes, drinking wine, and flirting with hot studs... provided their skin was suitably fair and they were not, as Vivian put it “one of those gypsies you hear so much about”.

She was doing 90 in a 55 zone, and fantasies of bodice-ripping, handsome James Bond types filled her head as she used the rearview mirror to put a layer of pink, wet-looking gloss on her puffed-up bimbo lips. She’d had her plastic surgeon (who she bragged was “extremely Jewish, all the best ones are”) touch them up just for the upcoming trip. After smacking them together, she ran her tongue over her perfectly capped, gleaming white teeth. As she indulged in vanity and ignored all else, the convertible zoomed past a road crew, nearly hitting an African-American man who was wearing a hazard vest and setting up road cones.

Stacey swiveled her head and looked back down the road. “Mom, you almost hit that black guy!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening. Her lip-reading skills were not great, but as the man shook his fist and collected the construction helmet that the car’s draft had set askew on his head, he appeared to be saying something the lines of _learn to drive_ , _you dumb bitch_. Her pigtails blew back around her face as the car continued to fly.

“Hmmph! He was probably jaywalking! You know all those blacks think the law doesn’t apply to them!” Vivian replied, her brow narrowing. Stacey tried to tell her that no, he was part of a team of guys operating a cement truck, but her mother was already well into one of her rants, and wouldn’t be dissuaded from it. “I swear, this town has gone to hell in a handbasket! Last week, I called the cops on some jive-talker with his pants sagging around his ankles at Starbucks, and it ended up all over the news, like somehow _I’m_ the bad person!”

The deteriorating state of her posh, upper class neighborhood was one of the reasons that Vivian wanted to leave their hometown of St. Croix for a trip abroad. She had the vague notion that she was, at the very least, descended from some sort of royalty. Maybe Italian (she had the defined facial features and grace of a runway model), maybe Scandinavian or German (she had the blue eyes and blonde hair). Whatever her exact genesis, Vivian had no doubt that a vacation would just the thing to give her and her impressionable young daughter a respite from ‘urban’ America and the many black studs that were her constant abyssinian temptation.

“You really need to focus less on _other_ types of people, and more on finding a nice, polite, white boyfriend,” Vivian lectured. They zoomed up to an intersection, and while stopped at the light she looked to left and saw a group of black teens on the yellowing lawn of a storefront, exchanging intricate hand signals. Her eyes narrowed even more. “Look at these criminal thugs!” she spat, and then leaned over the driver’s door and shook her fist. “Hey!” she cried, trying to bring the attention of the black youths, who wore jeans and undershirts with open jackets. “Stop flashing those gang signs! Do you think you’re in Compton or something?”

Stacey sank low in her seat and looked to see if anyone was watching. “Mooom, gawwd! Why do you always have to be so racist? It’s embarrassing!” The African-American males ignored her completely, however, and when the light turned green, Vivian floored the accelerator and they zoomed away, leaving the scene, and the building with the yellowed lawn - “St. Croix School For The Deaf” - in the rearview.  
  
“I think those guys were Crips,” Vivian opined, her face disapproving. “Or Bloods.”

“C’mon, mom,” said Stacy, waving a hand. “They were probably just basketball players. Or rappers.” She was more tolerant than her mother, having once listened to half a Mac Miller song and sorta enjoyed it. Yet even after her very recent sexual adventures in ‘the hood’, which her mother now refused to acknowledge or even talk about, the experience of interacting with black people still scared and thrilled her in ways she didn’t dare voice aloud. Prior to the their hot and heavy gangbang in the Cranshaw slums, Stacey and her slutty white friends would have _never_ entertained the idea of a black boyfriend. Still, though their shaved young pussies had been strictly whites-only, they sometimes teased each other with half-serious imaginings of “the dark side”. Such stories always made her belly quiver a little. Thus, while she listened dutifully while her mother insisted that they had only suffered a “momentary lapse” of racial purity, she wasn’t sure she quite believed it.

The European vacation was meant to be a reset button. No more fooling around with men of a ‘certain color’. A fresh, _white_ start to their love lives. That all sounded well and good… but when Stacey closed her eyes at night, she had trouble picturing the handsome faces of Caucasian hunks. Instead, her dreams were filled with dreadlocks. Gold chains. And thumping beats of hip-hop music. She didn’t dare tell her mother.

The convertible turned onto the ramp leading to the airport and zoomed through traffic until they reached long-term parking. They were on the verge of being late for their flight, but Vivian and Stacey were both extremely accustomed to the world revolving around them, and using their charms to persuade their way out of rough situations. They gathered their rolling luggage - quite a pile of it - and waited for the transport to the take them to the terminal. Vivian covered her eyes in a pair of large, dark sunglasses, which combined with her diamond choker and hoop earrings to make her look even more like the ultimate bombshell trophy wife. Stacey sucked her vape pen boredly and examined her makeup in the mud-speckled reflective glass of the transport-stop awning. Her puffy, swollen teenage cock pillows wrapped around the atomizer as if it were filled with cock instead of Sour Apple E-Liquid.

When the transport showed up, there was a dark-skinned man driving with his kinky hair stuffed beneath a ragged driver’s cap. The nametag spiked on the lapel of his jacket read “Jean”. He asked in an accented voice if he could help load the Whiteside girls’ luggage, and Vivian allowed him to do so, remarking: “You’re a minute late!” as she click-clacked her way up the bus steps, her ass bouncing and wobbling. “I don’t know how you do things in Detroit, _Jamal_ , but in St. Croix we arrive on time!”   
  
“I’m from Haiti,” the driver replied. “Have you ever heard of Port-au-Prince?”   
  
“I don’t listen to gangsta rap!” Vivian snorted, dismissively. She and Stacey sat down with six other passengers, all male, all with their eyes falling out of their heads as they tried to ogle the two bleached blonde mankillers without being noticed. They watched Vivian take her makeup mirror out of a massive designer handbag and start dragging a bubblegum pink lip gloss across her inflated lips, the stick pressing down into them, gliding over them and demonstrating just how fat and plump they were, before she smacked them together and ran her tongue over the inner edges. As visions of absolutely unloading their cum all over her slutty face swam in their minds, it was all they could do not to bust in their pants.   
  
They arrived to check-in just minutes before their flight, and rude as Vivian was in every leg of their journey, the Haitian bus driver did at least get to enjoy the sight of her and Stacey bouncing and jiggling away as their bubble butts bounced with every step. They walked in, collected their tickets, passed through security (where they were “randomly” selected for pat-downs by horny TSA agents, much to Vivian’s complaint) and made their way to Gate 69, where a flight to England would soon depart begin the first stop of their trip. Boarding was already underway when they sashayed down the concourse and to the entry, handing their passes to an absolutely dumbstruck, pimple-faced teenage attendant who barely looked at their papers before allowing them to move down the umbilical and toward the plane.   
  
In all the haste, neither the attendant nor the Whiteside girls realized that they had read the tickets upside down.

The flight to England was to depart from Gate 96, not Gate 69. And when Vivian and Stacey stowed their bags in the overhead, showing off a perfect view of their perfectly-round bimbo tits, and then settled their fine, squat-sculpted bubble butts into their first-class seats, they had no idea they had boarded the wrong plane.

 

> “We really had to hustle to get to our gate - my boobs almost fell out of my top when I was running in my heels! But we got settled into our seats just in time. Mom fell asleep right after takeoff. The pilot’s voice is really deep. It sounds sexy! I wonder if he’s ever dated a passenger? - Stacey  
> 

Vivian Whiteside was having a dream. She was on a cotton plantation, sitting on the porch of the ‘big house’ and watching dozens of negro slaves tend to her fields. Wearing nothing but frilly nightgown that was near-transparent in the midday light, she sipped a glass of fresh lemonade provided by a muscled black manservant. The slaves tending the blossoming rows had absolutely massive physiques. Their backs bristled with the marks of her lash. Of course, as the plantation mistress, she had bought only the finest black _bulls_ . Bucks who could really lift that bale, but were obedient enough to say _yassuh mistress_ and _nossuh mistress_ when called upon.

If she had her way, she’d never let these men learn to read or write, or do anything but put their powerful backs into whatever task she assigned… even if that task was her own pleasure. After all, they were her property. Using them was no different than using any other household object. Later that day she would line them all up, still glistening with sweat from their toil, and measure every one of their manhoods. She only wanted the _best_ bulls, after all. Six foot at least, with enough meat to really bulge out the scant clothing she would force them to work in.

“Don’t slow down you fucking _coons_ ,” her dream-self snapped, taking another sip of lemonade from the tray of her kneeling manservant. Despite Botox treatments not existing at such a time period, the drinking straw was still completely dominated by her moist, bee-stung mouth. “Or I’ll whip your black asses!” The chorus of _yassuh Miss Whiteside_ was satisfying and made her feel safe and superior. She didn’t want their culture, she wanted them in their place.   
  
But then she heard a strange sound, like an electric doorbell. She looked around to the door of the manor. Nonsense - such things didn’t exist back in the days before the Civil War. And yet she’d heard it… a sound she recognized. An intercom. Her dream began to disintegrate with this incongruity, and she snapped awake.  


 

> “Mom threw a huge fit during landing and everyone was looking at us, it was so embarrassing! I wanted to shrink into my seat! Why does she always have to be so racist?” - Stacey  
> 

In her waking confusion, Vivian couldn’t process the pilot’s message. Stacey was also dozing, and blinked away groggily with the small bustle of activity as they prepared to land. But landing was _wrong_ \- landing should have been _impossible_. The flight from St. Croix to London was ten hours, and Vivian knew she couldn’t have napped for more than an hour and a half. The light outside the window seemed wrong. The plane was over water and coming in, the sun was barely starting to set, and the water was a brilliant blue with none of the dinginess she’d expected from the famously ill-weathered British Isles.

Vivian grabbed the arm of a passing stewardess, who, she realized, was quite busty and blonde herself. “Excuse me,” she asked. “What’s going on?”

“We’re coming in for a landing soon, Miss,” the stewardess assured. Her tag revealed that her name was Candy, a bimbo name if ever there was one. “If you’ll just return your seat back to the upright position-”

“But this isn’t right,” Vivian urged, looking around the plane, examining the passengers. Blonde. Blonde. Brunette. Blonde. Blonde. Blonde. Redhead. There were a few other hair colors, but most of the passengers were striking bleached blondes, and every single one of them was a woman. Women with expensive earrings. Women with expensive shoes and handbags. Women with impressive boob jobs that came close to rivaling her own. Some appeared to be older women accompanied by their daughters, and Vivian was struck by how like her own daughter Stacey these girls seemed to be - girls in their late teens with pigtails and ponytails and starburst topknots, chewing bubblegum, wearing see-through blouses, Daisy Dukes, micro-skirts with thong straps showing high on their hips.

“I’m sorry you feel alarmed, Miss,” the stewardess comforted. “Can I offer you something to drink, to calm you down?”

“Yes, cognac,” said Vivian, distracted by the bimbo-filled cabin. “Something classy. Tesseron or Martel Blue Swift.”

“I’m sorry,” the stewardess replied. “We only have Hennessy.”

Vivian’s eyes popped open. “HENNESSY?” she cried. Her eyes were filled with dawning horror, and she began to glance around more furtively than ever. “But that means-”  
  
The intercom came on again. “Ladies,” came a deep voice that seemed to rumble through the cabin. “We are now making our final approach to Damballah Island.”

Vivian made a bewildered noise of surprise and leaned over her daughter’s seat to press her face into the airplane window, letting her round ass stick out into the aisle and her huge tits grind against Stacey’s equally-large jugs. As the plane descended, she saw sandy beaches. Palm trees. A burning tropical sun casting shadows on a city center ringed by colorful slums and favelas. As the crystal-clear waves crashed in, she saw the golden sand dotted with dozens, hundreds, of dark-skinned figures.

“Mom!” Stacey complained, as her mother’s enormous boobs draped over her body and smooshed her into her seat. “What’s going on? What are you looking it?”

The landing gear hit the runway with a screech. Vivian’s gorgeous blue eyes were wide beneath her scandalously long lashes, as she looked at the terminal, which was about as far from Heathrow airport as you could get. She saw a black ground control worker waving the plane in with a pair of neon orange signalling wands. They looked tiny in his huge hands, for he stood at least six foot six and had shoulders as broad as a baobab tree. The sunlight gleamed on his bald black head, and below his hazard vest, his work pants appeared to be stuffed with a bundle of bananas.

More baggage handlers and ground crew approached as the plane came to a stop - Vivian saw that each was massive and _black_ , _black as coal, black as midnight in Persia_ , and their bulging dicks loomed large as the refueling hoses for the plane. A noise of astonished horror rose in her throat, and passengers were beginning to notice her distress. One by one, blonde heads poked out into the aisle and turned in her direction. They had glossy lips. Slender noses. Oscar-worthy cheekbones. They wore jeweled chokers around their swan-like necks and their ears positively clanked with bangles.

“Mom!” Stacey urged, trying to move her mother back into her own seat. She raised her voice, trying to secure the older woman’s attention. “What’s the matter? What do you see?!”

“This isn’t Europe!” Vivian cried, her face reddening with intensity. “Why, they’re all a bunch of fucking NIGGERS!”

The word rang out like a gunshot, and the entire cabin gasped and fell completely silent. As Stacey slumped down in her seat and covered her face in utter embarrassment, Vivian blinked and looked around, her face still stricken with frustration, and saw that everyone was looking at her with aghast expressions. She stood in the aisle, planted her feet, spread her legs shoulder width apart, and put her hands on her hips defiantly.  
  
“...What?” she asked.  


 

> The nerve of that negro pilot, having security escort me off the plane! How dare they treat a white woman this way? I’m going to sue this airline for every nickel they have! These lazy, thieving pickaninnies won’t even have enough to buy fried chicken when I’m finished with them!
> 
> I don’t like the way Stacey was looking at that pilot, either. - Vivian   
> 

Stacey gave her mother an earful as they were bums’ rushed off the plane; making sure to focus on the fact that Vivian was _always_ embarrassing her by being extremely racist. This particular snafu was not the first time, as Vivian had once called the SWAT team on one of the sanitation workers who made stops at their house, because she thought his orange jumpsuit was from the Department of Corrections. Stacey considered herself to be the forward-thinking one of the family when it came to black culture. Thus, she realized she would have to guide her agitated mother through the current crisis.

“Calm down, mom. Let’s just get another flight out of here!” she urged, power-walking alongside Vivian with luggage in tow. Their clacking heels and sculpted buttocks and thighs made a combined sound and picture show wherever they went, and every muscled, black stud working at the airport stopped to admire them. At the customer service kiosk, they encountered a particularly powerful man in navy trousers that seemed to absolutely _bulge_ down his leg with a cylindrical pipe shape. When he spoke, it was with a gentle accent that Stacey couldn’t quite place. _Yes_ , he could arrange for a new flight, but it would take two to three days. _Yes_ , he would be happy to recommend a hotel for the meantime. As he talked and provided the information, both Whiteside women alternated their gazes between his strong, lantern-jawed face and the coil of _meat_ in his pants. He wrote down the address of the hotel and offered a gregarious smile, leaning on the kiosk counter with a muscled arm that seemed the size of a christmas ham.

Vivian collected the information and walked away, offering the hulking black customer service agent a distrustful glance, dragging the distracted Stacey with her. As they moved with luggage in tow, she glared at her daughter and offering an icy rebuke. “Just what do you think you were looking at?” she asked. “You were staring right at his cock!”

Stacey tried to play innocent. “N-no I wasn’t!” she objected, as they bounced along, their boobs and heels achieving a sort of hypnotic rhythm. “I was just watching him write down the address.” Her lie was as feeble as her bra’s attempt to contain her erect nipples, and Vivian only offered a glare in return.   
  
“Our new flight is in two days,” she said, “And until that time, you’re not to interact with any of these… dark-skinned locals. We’re just going stay in our hotel room, order room service, and watch movies.” She placed her dark sunglasses back over her eyes primly, and held up a finger to her daughter. “Do you understand?”

As she asked this question, they stepped out of the airport awning and into a bustling street. There was stirring calypso music and the beginning of a beautiful sunset. Beaches sprawled on either side of the small airport, and on each stretch sand, monstrously muscled black men were walking arm in arm with fair-skinned blondes, brunettes, and redheads in scandalously scant thongs that disappeared into their bouncing bubble-butts. Many of the women were topless. As for the males, most wore speedos that were positively drooping with the weight of their big, black penises! It was a sinful, sexual, party atmosphere. Burly black barkeeps were grilling meat skewers and pouring endless glasses of sangria while blondes in mini-skirts flirted with an parade of tall, wide black males. Deeper into town, there was the thump of club music and the promise of neon-lit alleys and shadowed, private corners that were absolutely crawling with glowering black beasts.

Vivian covered Stacey’s eyes and hustled her over the crosswalk. “Stop staring!” she admonished. “We’re going straight to our room, and that’s final!” The look on her face was stricken with worry as she tried to protect her daughter from the sex-charged sights, scents, and smells.  


 

> Oh my gawd, I can’t believe this place! On the way to the hotel, I saw a girl barely my age walking on the beach with a black bull on each arm… and their dicks were just hanging out! Each one was like, a foot-and-a-half long and they had such big balls too! I’m so wet, just thinking about those huge black studs did to her!
> 
> Mom is being a real pain. I have to find a way to have some fun before we leave! - Stacey  
> 

The bellhop that took the luggage trolley to the room and unloaded their bags had a name tag that titled him as ‘Jacques’. He was a powerful, dark-skinned black man who seemed in his mid-20’s, at least 6’6” tall and rippling with muscles below a white polo shirt and spotless white slacks. His shaved head gleamed in regular lights of the hallway as he pushed the cart forward, gripping the brass frame with brawny forearms. Though he was the perfect gentleman, and even had a trace of a cultured, island accent, Vivian gave him the cold shoulder.   
  
For Stacey, it was different. She was taking every chance she could to watch the way his pants rippled around his crotch, bulging outward with an absolutely obscene coil of meat that looked like a length of sausage folded in on itself. She judged that if it were to hang straight down,it would easily each his knee, and just the thought of seeing it in person made her young white body tingle. He was as big as those black bull studs she’d seen on the beach - maybe even bigger. He handled all the bags with absolutely no problem, lifting even the heaviest with an ease that begged the question of how easily he could toss a 100-pound blonde around the bedroom. As he went about his work, Stacey’s demeanor continued to heat up with sultry looks and the precocious oral-fixation nibbling of the end of one of her ponytails. At the same time, Vivian saw her daughter putting on a show for their black porter and grew more agitated and resentful… especially when he appeared to flash several smiles in her direction.   
  
When everything was properly arranged and delivered, Jacques moved to the exit, and stood by the door with his palm open expectantly. However, Vivian only crossed her arms and sneered. “What are you holding your hand out for?” she asked, her voice ornery and promising thunderstorms. Her angular MILF face was blazing in the eyes and flushed near her perfect cheekbones. Her expert capped, flawlessly white veneers clenched oppressively between her moist, painted lips.

“Well, Miss,” Jacques replied evenly, “At times like this, a small gratuity is considered customary.”

Vivian made a ‘hmmph!’ noise and strutted over to a circular table near the window that held a basket of fruit. Grabbing a wax banana, she tossed it in Jacques direction. Perhaps surprised by her boldfaced racism, he caught it before it hit his barrel chest and fell to the floor. “Go and get your friends to help you peel it,” Vivian sneered. “Because you’re not getting a dime from me!”

Stacey’s eyes went wide. “Mooooom!” she burst out, clutching her hands to her large, pert chest with alarm. “Oh my gawd!” She covered her eyes with dismay, more mortified with embarrassment than ever before.

Jacques’ eyes narrowed for just a split second, and Vivian raised her chin defiantly. After the day she’d had, she was armed and ready to get into a shouting match. She’d missed her plane to Europe and wound up in Damballah Island, of all places. Now, instead of enjoying the comforts of a very old, safe, and _white_ city, she was stuck in a city filled to the brim with big, _hung_ black studs! Her expression promised that she had twenty more racially-charged epithets ready to fly if her dark-skinned adversary so much as made one syllable of complaint. Her mind was an encyclopedic repository of references to welfare checks, wide noses, thick lips, drive-by-shootings and shining shoes. She knew every slur from ape to Sambo and had them all locked and loaded.

Yet Jacques only turned, let the banana fall to the ground, and said “Good day to you, then,” before he wordlessly walked out the door.

It hadn’t been shut for more than a second before Stacey turned and balled her fists with outstretched arms, admonishing her mother with a tantrumy cry. “Mom, you’re the worst!”

“It’s for your own protection,” Vivian said, high and mightily. “This place is just full of men who will try to take advantage of innocent, virtuous white women!” Though many would question the appropriateness of either of those adjectives in her case, Vivian crossed her arms over her round, bulging milk jugs and put her foot down. “Now, I don’t want to hear any more discussion about it!”

Stacey fell silent. “It’s not fair,” she ventured, drawing herself up to her full 5’2”. Her bubble-butt bounced in the stringy hammock of distressed denim as she spread her legs shoulder width and put her hands on her hips to emphasize her resolve. “It’s _my_ vacation too. And I’m going to apologize to him!” She sauntered out of the room in her own platform heels, twin starburst ponytails swishing behind her, ignoring her mother’s order to stop.

When the door was shut, Vivian sighed with frustration. Stacey had always been headstrong. She would let her cool down, and find her in a few minutes. With the room empty, she turned to really examine her surroundings for the first time, and instantly her mouth dropped open with surprise. Something wasn’t right, and in her zealousness to keep Stacey from ogling their black bellhop, she hadn’t noticed when they’d first come in.

“Those black bastards!” she cried. The concierge had said the room he’d given them was the last available, and now she could see why.

There was only one bed.  


 

> Stacey didn’t like it, but I had to take drastic measures to make sure her virtue wasn’t soiled by the big black stud who carried our luggage! I could tell that he had at least sixteen inches of nigger meat, just waiting to fuck some young white pussy!
> 
> After that, well - there was only one way to keep that horny porch monkey away from my daughter for good! I knew what I had to do. - Vivian  
> 

Stacey’s gorgeous teen body jiggled as she bounced jauntily down the hall to catch up to the bellhop, her pace as close to running as her heels would allow without sending her tumbling on the hallway carpet. She caught up to him next to a storage room as he was putting a key into the staff room door, and returned his smile with one of her own.  
  
“Sorry about that,” she said, sashaying up to his side and placing a hand on his powerful forearm as it held the key in the door. “My mom is kinda… old-fashioned.” Her body buzzed at the power she felt beneath the black skin… and the contrast of color between her own hand and his wrist.   
  
“Yeah?” Jacques replied, towering over her. He seemed bemused, less formal than when he’d stood at the door to their room, and his eyes wandered over her petite pixie body with interest that was more thinly-disguised than before.   
  
Stacey smiled and pulled herself closer, causing her chest to press up against his arm. “I was thinking, it’s not fair if you don’t get something bringing in all of our luggage.”

CLICK!   
  
The key turned in the lock and the bellhop opened the storage closet. A small room, barely large enough for two people, stocked with towels, cleaning supplies, and various other amenities. On her own accord, Stacey giggled and ducked under his muscled arm to squeeze inside first, her pert buttocks sliding enticingly across Jacques’ fat cock bulge, mashing it against her soft flesh, grinding against it.

She turned around and stood in front of him, fluttering her mascara-painted eyes and out-thrusting her chest as she put her hands behind her back demurely - a brat’s ‘Who, me?’ expression.  
  
“You gonna give me a tip?” Jacques asked. His accent seemed less pronounced, and he cast a shadow over her as he walked into the room, his massive shoulders nearly wide enough to span the entire entryway.   
  
“Mmm, I can take a lot more than the tip!” Stacey purred, and then took one step forward to press her hot teen body against his massive frame, bringing both hands down to caress the bulge that was satcheled in his white pants like a bent-in-half snake. She wrapped her hands around it and felt it jump, cooing a little at the sensation. Her tummy quivered in anticipation of forbidden, exotic acts with a man of foreboding ethnicity. To her well-trained eye, Jacques looked three times as big as any of her previous white boyfriends, and she’d heard her mother and friends talk a hundred times about how black men were sex-crazed, they would fuck like animals at the drop of a hat.

“I dunno,” Jacques rumbled, looking over the tiny, 5’2, 100 pound blonde toy that was rubbing herself all over his front. “You’re pretty small. Might be too young to give this sort of tip.”

“I _just_ turned 18,” Stacey moaned, licking her long, agile tongue around the outside of her lips, moistening them. “Since I’m legal, why don’t you give me birthday present?” Her plaintive voice made it clear what she had in mind, and Jacques flicked on the light and moved to shut the closet. However, before he could put them into sordid seclusion, a voice rang out in the hallway.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”   
  
There was no mistaking that voice. Vivian Whiteside was not one to be quiet when she was royally pissed, and she’d also made her way down the hall, tits and ass bouncing in her alabaster jumpsuit, to do some patterned mother-style meddling. In doing so, she’d managed to see the impending rendezvous moments before the door closed. “Stacey! Get out that closet this instant!” Her agitated voice brooked no refusal, and Stacey squeezed past the hulking bellhop (once again giving his cock a rub through his pants) and out into the hall.

“Mom, I was just-”  
  
“Quiet! Go back to the room, right now. RIGHT NOW!” She pointed with one slender, perfectly-toned arm back in the direction of their suite, the silver bracelets on her wrists glittering in the overhead lights. Stacey balled her fists and bent at the waist to voice her displeasure.

“Mom, why do you always have to be like this? It’s none of your business who I hang out with!” she objected, and the squawking of the two Whiteside women was quickly reaching a pitch that would attract attention. Jacques looked on from the supply closet doorway with rising alarm.

“He’s just trying to take advantage of a young, innocent white girl!” Vivian spat back, and grabbed her daughter by the upper arm to begin sending her back down the hall. Sensing that her mother was unpersuadable, Stacey uttered a tantrum-like cry of frustration and began to bounce back toward the room, her ass-cheeks jiggling in her distressed Daisy Dukes, her tits showing both buoyancy and firmness, her twin ponytails swaying from side to side.   
  
Both Jacques and Vivian watched her go, and once she had rounded the corner, Jacques addressed Vivian in a calm, even voice. “Miss, I assure you that nothing inappropriate-”   
  
Vivian immediately barged up to him and made scorching eye contact, just inches away from his chest. “Don’t give me that! I know exactly what you were going to do, you goddamn _jungle-bunny_.” Her gaze was intense, and Jacques made a frustrated inhaling sound as he endured her verbal abuse. Yet he continued to restrained himself.

“I hardly think that sort of language is necessary,” he said, his voice strained. He made a point of keeping his hands at his side and adopting a non-aggressive pose as Vivian leaned into him, her chin pointed, her face in something like a snarl. “If you have a complaint, you can direct it to-”

“Complaint?” Vivian cried. “My complaint is that you were trying to seduce my daughter! If you ever touch her again, I’ll send your coon ass back to Africa!”  
  
“Fuck you, you cracker-ass bitch!” Jacques exploded. “Your ho’ daughter was the one looking to get this big, fat nigga pipe. Stay in your own lane and let people live they lives!”

Jacques blinked and then his eyes went wide. Vivian echoed this expression, and for a moment they looked at each other with disbelief. There was a moment of silence as they realize that the cat had been let out of the bag. “I fucking KNEW it!” Vivian gasped. “You’re just some fucking thug from Martin Luther King Boulevard!”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss,” Jacques said, trying to recover his classy-sounding, faint Jamaican accent. But the way his eyes were moving up and avoiding contact, it was clear there was a kernel of truth in Vivian’s accusation.

She plucked his nametag from his polo shirt with two manicured fingers and waved it at him. “What’s your real name?” she asked.  
  
Jacques fetched a deep sigh, and then paused and regarded her. She was barely bigger than her daughter, but was all up in his grille, showing utter fearlessness in the face of his overwhelming size and blackness. A real crazy-ass bitch, that was for sure. “It’s... Dequan,” he said, at last.

“You _lying_ night-fighter!” Vivian hissed through clenched teeth. “You’re just like those Nigerian prince scams they talk about on The View!”   
  
The former Jacques, now Dequan, rolled his eyes. “Look, I ain’t lyin’. I got a degree in hospitality. The accent is an affectation we put on, to help cracker-ass tourists feel more comfortable. It’s Hotel Management 101 shit. Now, I think this nonsense has gone on long enough, lady.” He used two massive black hands to dust off the front of his polo shirt, as if divorcing himself from the matter. “As for your daughter, that trick can make her own choices.”

Vivian snarled and gripped Dequan’s waistband with both hands and dragged him toward the supply closet, shutting the door behind them. In the small room, lit by a single bright light bulb, he _towered_ over her as her hands unfastened his belt and whipped it off before unbuttoning his fly. Because his waist was at Vivian’s chest level, it was the easy work of a few seconds.  
  
“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” she seethed, biting her lower lip as she unbuttoned his fly. Her voice was low, accusatory, but also conspiratorial.  “To have my _little white daughter_ suck on this _big nigger dick_?” Her painted lips seemed to curve and pout and caress the forbidden words as they poured out of her mouth. The soft snap of buttons sliding through buttonholes continued, and then, with a soft slap, the bellhop’s big, black penis fell from his fly and slapped into Vivian’s breasts with a heavy flopping noise. “Oh, fuck!” she moaned, looking down at the organ, which was bent upward at the halfway point where it pressed between her cleavage, and continued to nearly poke against her windpipe. In spite of her agitation, her eyes were wide with awe. “What a _huge_ _black cock_!”

Her hands went to grip the shaft with two hands. The sight of it made her nipples surge in hard nubs against the top of her jumper. Vivian inhaled sharply as she beheld the enormous black pipe. It was thicker than her wrist and seemed nearly as long as her arm, even though it was only half-hard. The ebon shaft was trellised with criss-crossing veins, and she could imagine how deep it could carve up a white woman’s pussy if it were fully hard. She imagined what had been about to happen to Stacey and shuddered. Her daughter was clearly infatuated; in order to keep Stacey’s young white pussy from being destroyed, Vivian knew she would have to wave the red cape in front of this snorting, charging black bull.

“You stay away from my daughter,” she warned, jacking his cock with two hands as she spoke. “Everyone knows you blacks are degenerates who can’t get enough tight, young white pussy! Well, not on my watch. I’ll handle you right here!”  
  


> I knelt in front of that bellhop and started sucking his LONG BLACK DONG! He was so thick, I felt like my jaw was going to break… but I managed to swallow every inch of that nigger meat! God… he really worked my throat! It was probably the sloppiest, nastiest head I’ve ever given! - Vivian  
>   
> 

“Bitch are you- oh, fuck!” Dequan burst out. He had meant to say _bitch are you crazy_ , but had blurted out the _oh fuck_ at the end when Vivian took the tapered end of her agile tongue and burrowed into his pisshole. His pink, moist cockknob looked enormous compared to her mouth, and she supported his shaft with two hands while teasing his piss-slit and then planting hot, spit-soaked cocksucker kisses on his tip. She even hollowed out her cheeks and sucked the leaking pre-cum out of his slit, making sizzling, furious eye contact the entire time. When she broke the kiss, it left a syrupy strand of cum and saliva connected her glossy pink lips and the imposing black cock knob.

“Fuck, you’re already leaking so much cum!” Vivian accused. She dropped into a lewd squat to get the better angle, able to let the chocolate monster dangle down to her face instead of pulling it upward. Her shining golden hair was awash on her toned back, and her buttocks swelled out behind her in a heart-shaped curve. “You black bastards can’t help it, can you?” Her eyes were intense, she was looking at the massive black man like he was, rather than a human being, some sort of animal that could hardly be blamed for his insatiable desire to breed. She jacked the long, black cock just inches from her gorgeous face and hissed further charges as she did so. “Did you want to cum on my daughter’s face? Huh? Did you want to feed her every inch of this _big nigger dick_?”

She opened her mouth and bobbed her head forward to engulf his cockhead and the first few inches of his shaft, alternating her gaze between eye contact and a cock fixation that was a mixture of lust and distaste. She slid the top of her jumpsuit from her shoulders, letting her enormous, perfectly spherical tits fall free from their confines - they hung with gravity-defying, golden-tanned enormity. Her lips, plump and wet, were wrapped around his dark-skinned shaft; a pair of puffed up pipe-slurpers that smeared spit as they smacked wetly over his venous length. She didn’t disguise any of the noises his size was forcing out of her mouth, and indeed seemed to relish the challenge. _Gluuuarrk! Gluuurk! Huuuark!_ When she let his fat knob pop from her lips, split splattered down her chin and an arcing bridge of bubbly saliva and semen connected his meat to her mouth. She gathered this web of goo and used to to continue to lube up his shaft. Her eyes had started to water… but not enough to weaken the intensity of their blueness as she looked up fiercely at her black bull.

“Nnngh, fuck!” she moaned, swallowing a mouthful of spit and puffing breaths out through the dainty nostrils of her perfectly-sculpted, supermodel-thin nose. Spit slid from her chin and onto her huge breasts, and she took Dequan’s cock at the halfway point and banging it four or five times on her cheek, aggressively, feeling the hardness, stimulating him with the impact of his dark sabre on her wanton white face.

“Damn, bitch,” he exclaimed, looming over her like a black storm. “You know how give that _brain_!”

“That’s it! Keep talking like that! Drop the goodie-two-shoes act and show me what a _thug_ you are!” Vivian hissed, leaning in to grip his pants and pull them all the way down, revealing thighs bulging with powerful muscle. Her tiny hands grabbed the waistband of his boxer shorts next, dragging them all the way down over his jutting dick, bending it nearly flat against his leg, to reveal his full shaft and low-hanging balls.

His massive hand went to her hair, gripping her shapely head and sinking into her golden tresses, drawing a moan. He could control her easily this way, and she responded to such treatment, for it was exactly what Vivian expected from a black man. Powerful, insatiable, and sexually insistent. Her body shuddered as she felt him gather her hair and pull it back, making sure it wouldn’t get in the way of what she was about to do. He pulled her to the base of his shaft and she turned her head sideways to run her lips up and down that shaft, soaking his base in spit, reaching out to feel the weight of his low-hanging balls while his shaft flopped over her like a shoulder-fired missile.

She held her small hands out, forming a platform for his overloaded sack to pile on, feeling his heat and virility as he two fist-sized testicles threatened to spill overspill her palms. They were large enough to stretch his scrotum low; and Vivian pressed her face forward, parting her lips to plant a sloppy, devouring kiss on one of the testicles, widening her mouth to accept half of it, then moving back out slightly, worshiping that nut.

“Yeah, suck my fuckin’ balls you white bitch,” the towering black giant grunted, keeping her hair pulled back so she could see every detail of Vivian bathing his sack in spit.”Show me how much you love those nigga nuts!”  As she orally worshiped his balls, her off-hand explored the rippling onyx muscle of his abs and thighs, even wrapping around to grope and slap his buttocks, and she squealed with needy delight when she felt his the horsepower working under his slick black skin, as if she was a slaveowner at the market, testing her newly-acquired African flesh for hardiness.

Vivian tugged his sack toward her mouth so she could bath both balls in spit, making a mess, causing big, foamy bubbles to form and pop in time with the lewd sucking and licking noises of her glossed up bimbo mouth. She bathed her face in the loose flesh of his scrotum and seemed to love every second of it, pulling back only when delivered long, lip-smacking sucks to both balls. His shaft was now thoroughly prepared; every inch from tip to balls was glistening and soaked with her spit. His hands was controlling her head and she looked up at him, barring her perfect teeth. “Fuck, your big fat nigger balls are so _heavy_ !” she hissed. “You’re a real black _bull_ , aren’t you? Were you about to go on little crime spree? Fucking every white girl you could find? Pumping them full of this nigger cream?”   
  
“Shut up and take this pipe, ho!” was the response, and he pulled Vivian’s face onto the rock-hard, saliva-drenched tool in front of her, burying inch after inch in her throat. She braced her hands against his thighs but did not pull away while the 6’6, 250 pound black studs absolutely dominated her petite white frame; using his powerful legs and chiseled black ass to thrust his pole deep into the back of her mouth and down her tight, spit-lubed gullet. It seemed impossible, and at first his length almost seemed to bend slightly with the pressure, but eventually it disappeared, inch after inch, into Vivian’s throat. It was like a sword-swallower’s trick, and the blonde, blue-eyed bombshell made a gagging noise around the invasion of black meat, her jaw stretched wide. _Gluuuarrrrrrk!_

Her hands clapped down on his black ass and pulled him in, wanting him to use her throat as hard and deep as he could. Vivian dipped down from her stripper squat to kneel, legs shoulder width apart, as her stud went to work, taking long, sloppy, throat-stretching strokes into her guts. As he held her head and pulled her hair back, he withdrew his cock more than halfway with each thrust, before driving more than a foot of coal-black meat back down her slick, sucking throat. Vivian’s nose pressed against his sweat-glistening pubis at the terminus of each penetration, and although she was utterly skewered by black cock she was still able to lick her tongue around his base and grope his body, clutching his rear and cupping his massive, low-hanging balls.

“Fuckin’ ho! Takin’ eighteen inches in them guts!” Dequan hissed, exhaling with the exertion of thrusting in and out of Vivian’s mouth. “And sloppy as fuck!” As if to prove the point, he pulled his throbbing black meat out, and a a sheet of bubbly saliva came away with it, pouring down Vivian’s chin and onto her breasts, making a mess that she instinctively used to smear and oil up her chest. She huffed and puffed tortured, spit-bubbling breaths as his shaft hovered inches from her face, connected by a latticework of gooey slime ropes.  
  
“Fuck! You want to pump your _thick_ _nigger cum_ down my throat, don’t you?” Vivian seethed. Her mascara was beginning to run, but she looked no less intense as she gathered the spit-ropes and used them to jack and lube up the throbbing ebony pipe in front of her. She extended her tongue and beat Dequan’s cock on the flat of it a half-dozen times, moaning with pleasure at the slapping impact sound. Her pussy was absolutely molten with wetness; her imagination had transformed the black bellhop into her twisted ideal of black sexual menace.

_God, it makes me so wet to give nasty head to the biggest, blackest nigger thugs_ , she thought. _My pussy is soaked!_ To her, a black man could change his clothes, his voice, and his job, but nothing could ever change the brutal exoticism of his skin color, and there was no doubt in her mind that ‘Dequan’ was just another blonde-hunting nigger buck. She couldn’t let him get anywhere near Stacey! Just the thought of what his _long dong_ would do to her perky, perfect body - she would look like a tiny toy in his arms! She wouldn’t allow it. Stacey, Vivian had decided, needed a safe, rich, _white_ boyfriend. And in order for that to happen, she would have to defuse the looming _niggerbomb_ that was looking to detonate in her daughter’s teen pussy.

“Come on,” she hissed up at him, digging her teeth into her lower lip in a plaintive pout. Her door-knockers and diamond choker glistened below the golden sheet of her hair as she looked up at the towering black giant from her submissive spot on the floor. “Feed me your fucking _coon cum_ . I want to feel you in my _stomach_ , nigger!”   

Her racial abuse had the desired effect, and Vivian’s head was shortly grabbed and pulled forward again by a pair of massive black hands, her golden hair trailing behind in a silken wave. Her buttocks jiggled with the thrusts, bouncing in the second skin of her jumpsuit; the top of which was hanging from her waist. Her tits, covered in spit and pre-cum, shed their bounty of messy goo in a haze of tiny droplets every time her face impacted Dequan’s chiseled abs. Her was taking deep strokes, a brutal black bull using all of his power to drill Vivian to her bubble-butt bimbo core. Her lips distorted into a nasty, dick-sucker tube shape as she hollowed out her cheeks around that black donkey dong, still sucking it, deep-throating, and gagging as only she could. Spit from her sloppy mouth-fuck splattered down her chin to the floor, and sluiced off Dequan’s monster shaft like rain from a railing. Her blazing blue eyed shed tears of mascara but were unblinking in their intense stare.

“Fuck! Get this nigga nut, bitch!” he cried, and placed two hands with interlocking fingers around Vivian’s head, pressing her sculpted nose into his pubes and her forehead into his abs, so that nothing could be seen from above but the flowing stream of golden hair trailing down her back and stopping just short of her bulging bubble-butt. His swollen cock-knob was bottomed out in her spasming stomach, and he began to pump jet after chunky jet of thick, hot semen into directly into her belly. Her pussy had soaked the leggings of her outfit so thoroughly it was nearly transparent; now, as Vivian felt the unbelievably copious blasts of semen spewing into her gut, a firecracker orgasm exploded through her body.

It was in the moment of her heart-pounding, throat-gagging, knee-weakening climax that Vivian’s mind raced with the truth of what she really wanted. She might need a white man for money. Or to remarry. But nothing could make her pussy purr and her clit throb like a big, fat, nigger donkey dick! And while she might complain about what she perceived as a lack of whiteness, a lack of politeness, a lack of tradition… she didn’t really want any of that from a black man anyway.

_I just want to suck and fuck the nastiest, drug-dealing nigger thugs_ , she realized. _There may not be plantations anymore but there **are** jails. I want them chained hand and ankle. Ripped and sweaty from pumping iron in the prison yard. Line them up in their prison clothes. Inmate numbers on the back. Nobody light skinned - just the biggest, baddest African beasts! I want those gangsta thugs to hold me down and make my shaved white pussy cream all over their nigger donkey dongs!_

Her orgasm rumbled on like a freight train and she gave in to it, her body pulsing with pleasure in time with the thick, creamy blasts of sperm pouring into the cum-stuffed reservoir of her belly until it was totally filled. When her black bull withdrew and leaned an elbow against the shelving to steady himself, she let out a massive gasp and sunk lower onto the ground, inhaling and exhaling with his spurting dick still unloading in her face, painting her bimbo dick-sucker lips white with thick cum. She reached out and milked that prick, wanting every drop, wanting her gorgeous trophy-wife face marked.  
  
_God, he totally filled me with nigger cum, and he’s still cumming_ , Vivian thought, looking at the spit-soaked black shaft with utter lust. _What a stud! What a nasty nigger breeding bull! If I’d let him get at Stacey’s tight little pussy, she’d be having his black baby for sure!_ The thought filled her with new and forbidden excitement. She knew the idea shouldn’t excite her - quite the contrary - but the fire inside her body was irresistible. She craned forward to worship the black cockslit that had given her so much seed, stretching her lips out obscenely around his cock-knob and sucking wetly at it like a baby with a pacifier.

Dequan made a hissing noise and raised an eyebrow. “Damn bitch! I already nutted and you still suckin’!”   
  
Vivian looked up at him like the cat who’d caught the canary, showing a mischievous smile for the first time as she licked and sucked the last dregs of cum from his pisshole and swallowed them eagerly, before reaching up to the ropes of creamy wad on her cheeks and lips and pushing them into her mouth to swallow them too. “Just remember,” she said. “You don’t show your face around here until me and my daughter have checked out.”

“Alright,” Dequan rumbled, before muttering: “Racist-ass bitch.” He pulled up his pants and began to button them, and when Vivian held out his discarded nametag, he took it and affixed it to his shirt before stepping out of the storage closet.  
  
“I’m sorry, Miss,” he said, and his voice was back to the cultured, even tones he’d demonstrated earlier in the day. “This area is off limits to guests.”

Vivian slid the top of her jumpsuit back on over her shoulders, and without saying another word, arranged her massive, nearly-falling-out breasts in her top with two practiced hands. Then, she simply strutted off down the hall to her room, letting her bouncing bubble-butt jiggle all the way.

 

 

> When mom came back to the room it was so obvious that something happened. Her clothes were splattered and her voice was all scratchy from sucking dick! I was so jealous of her getting all of that NIGGER MEAT - I couldn’t resist riling her up! - Stacey

 

By time her mother had showered and prepared for bed, Stacey was already tucked in in her usual sleepwear: am abbreviated, translucent pink lace nightie that only came down to her navel, barely-there pink panties that clung like a filmy second skin to her puffy, shaved pussy mound, and her plush stuffed bear, Bruno. Her eyes were closed, but she was only playing possum.

Since they had to share one double bed, Stacey felt the mattress shift when her mother laid down beside her. Vivian, too, was wearing her typical sort of nighttime attire - a sporty black bandage-style bra and thong set with “OMG” printed repeatedly on the wide elastic that curved over her hips and under her breasts. The adjustable shoulder straps were at their limit accommodating her generous chest size, and the unrestrained thong bottom was just the thing to let her massive, round bubble butt breathe. Vivian also wore a sleep mask to bed, and it was just before she pulled this down over her eyes that Stacey, laying down just inches away from her, spoke up.

“I know what you did, you know!” she pouted, in the dimness of the room. It was lit only by the moonlight from the windows.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vivian replied, not looking over. “Stop being silly and get some sleep.”

“Fine, be that way,” Stacey replied, petulantly. “But tomorrow I’m going to shopping in the city!” She knew that her mother would forbid this, and was not disappointed when Vivian turned around and faced her with urgency. Both of them were laying on one hip, their glorious golden curves sloping up and down in a near mirror-image.

“Don’t you dare!” Vivian objected. “Why, the street thugs in town will rob you, rape you and leave you in the gutter! You don’t know the first thing about places like this Damballah Island! It’s filled to the brim with gangsta hoodlums who would love to get their hands on a young white girl like you!” She was already getting heated up, and Stacey felt a shudder in her tight young body and edged closer to her mother on the bed. Their respective pairs of huge tits, Vivian’s slightly outsizing those of her progeny, were just an inch from bumping against each other, nipple to nipple.

“Mom, it’s a _vacation spot_. I saw the beaches and the bars. People were drinking. Having fun. Playing music.” She sighed and pouted again, cuddling her stuffed bear. “Why do you always have to ruin everything just because you hate black people?” She knew from experience that this accusation would incite a furious response.

“I do NOT!” Vivian gasped. “I have nothing but respect for polite, educated black people, like that Wayne Brady. But the blacks on Damballah Island…” She wiggled closer to Stacey on the bed and her nipples accidentally brushed against those of her daughter. Her voice became a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re nothing but a bunch of _sex-crazed nigger bucks_!”

Stacey made a peeping sound and bit her lower lip as she and her mother pillow-talked like girls at a sleepover. “Oh yeah?” she whispered, baiting the hook. “What makes you think that?”

“Haven’t you seen the way they walk around on the beach with their big black cocks just _swaying_ ?” Vivian continued. “This island is filled with swaggering, jacked up nigger alpha _bulls_ who have absolutely no decency or morals. They’re no better than animals in a zoo, Stacey - and you don’t want to get in the cage with them!”

“I saw,” Stacey hissed meekly, rubbing her thighs together as she listened to her mother’s warning. There was something so exciting about thinking about so many big, black islanders, divorced from civilization, scooping her up like King Kong with a sacrificial maiden. “Those big black cocks were as thick as my arm and they hung all the way to their knees-”

“Exactly! Those donkey dick _coons_ would just _love_ to get a hold of that thick bubble butt of yours,” Vivian confirmed, her eyes urgent. She reached out a hand and gripped her daughter’s bouncy, pert assmeat, jiggling it. “And it’s never just one of them! These niggers - they always have a posse of thug friends who want a chance at some white pussy!”

“Oh, gawd!” Stacey peeped.  “I’d probably be surrounded by them… on my knees… they wouldn’t let me escape until I...” Stacey trailed off, and snuggled closer to her mother. Their erect nipples jousted against each other through the barely-there fabric of their nightclothes. Their wide-eyed expressions and intimate face-to-face position - not to mention the sexy underwear - was reminiscent of a slumber party with young girls scaring each other with tales of the boogeyman. Which was exactly what Vivian was trying to do.  
  
“They would take you and pass you around among the other gang members,” Vivian whispered with certainty, as if it were a foregone conclusion. She was rubbing her thighs together too, and the women had encroached so closed on the bed that they had their hands on each other’s hourglass waists. “Instead of being a beautiful, carefree young white girl, you’d be nothing but their little queen-of-spades hood rat!” Vivian envisioned the tawdriness of it all in her mind as she continued her warning. “Those weed-smoking, dreadlocked niggers would just throw you on in some graffiti-tagged alley and make you service all their monster nigger cocks!”

“Nnnngh!” moaned Stacey, and she squinted her eyes shut. “That’s amaz- uh… awful!” Their legs were starting to interlock now, and the pulsing pea of her clit was grinding against her mother’s upper thigh. Her mind was filling in all the details - a dark alley where the calypso music was distant and the thumping bass nearby. Trash cans. Graffiti. Food wrappers and trash blowing in ill breezes that did nothing to alleviate the brutal tropical heat. A black man with dreadlocks leaning against the stripped frame of a car, every inch of his lean, powerful body dripping with sweat. Her palms flat on the hood. A massive ebon hand tearing pulling her thong to one side and leaving it splayed over one of her perfectly round, bulging PAWG buttocks. “Fuck!” she moaned, biting her lower lip. “Those… dirty fucking niggers!”

“Yes! Now you see!” Vivian exclaimed, sliding a hand between them to caress her daughter’s tight midriff. Now, Stacey’s upper thigh was pressing into her clit, as well. “They wouldn’t stop until they’d filled you up with their thick, nasty nigger cum!”

“Fuck, they’d wreck my little pussy!” Stacey replied. “They’d make me take every inch of those big, black cocks! My _white womb_ would nothing more than a cumdump for the _biggest, blackest niggers_!”

“It would be so... terrible!” Vivian purred, though her body language was telling a different story, like she was imagining every detail in her mind. Her nipples continued their head-on battle with her daughter’s equally pokey nubs as they gripped each other for ‘security’ against the unfolding of further dark, twisted fantasies.

“Just… a nightmare!” Stacey agreed, and their breathing sped. She raised her knee up a bit further and caused her upper thigh to grind more intensely into her mother’s crotch. Their breasts continued to press against each other, compressing into ovoid shapes while their nipples slid and abraded together, letting them feel every pore as it slid over their hot, tanned skin.  
  
“They’d probably make me watch!” Vivian gasped, envisioning her own role in the cautionary tale. “Those depraved, jungle animals!”

“They’d... make us twerk for them, together!” Stacey embellished. They were panting a little, blowing hot breath over each others moist dick-sucker lips. Viewed from above they formed a Janus, a mirror-image of two perfect blonde sluts with bodies overlapped and melding inward, their sprays of glittering golden hair outflowing in sheets on the mattress behind.

“They’d cum in our mouths... and make us snowball it… nngh! Back and forth!” Vivian gasped. Both women had their eyes closed, and perhaps because they were both imagining the sinful act, they both extended their tongues at the same time in an unconscious imitation of what it might be like. Their long, agile pink appendages met at mid-point between their mouths… and their eyes popped open with surprise.

Quickly, Vivian reached up and snapped on a lamp that was attached to the headboard. Their bodies were still entwined, and after a moment of complete awkwardness, they shuffled backward and extricated themselves from the tangle of thighs and boobs! Vivian’s eyes narrowed into an accusatory, scolding frown.  
  
“Stacey! Are you getting _turned on_ by this?!” she squawked.

“N-no!” Stacey denied, turning her head away slightly, her perfect cheekbones high with blushing color. “Are you!?”

Now it was Vivian’s turn to blush and look away. “O-of course not! I was just trying to warn you about what _might_ happen! It’s a mother’s duty to prepare her daughter for the harsh truths of the real world!”   
  
They fell silent again and gradually returned to their sleeping positions. Vivian looked at Stacey with an unasked question: _Did you get the point? Do you see why we have to stay in the hotel room and you can’t go shopping?_ Stacey’s expressive young face revealed nothing. She only snuggled her bear and turned her face to the pillow. When the light clicked off again and their throbbing, voluptuous bodies were cooling beneath the thrum of the ceiling fan, Stacey spoke up.

“Alright,” she acquiesced. “I get it. We can’t go to the beach, or the club, or the shops, or the bar. But… can we at least go out to eat tomorrow?”

“Going out to eat is fine, I suppose,” said Vivian. “But we go straight there and straight back here. And no ethnic food.” Her voice was dozy with near-sleep as she spoke straight upward, laying like a corpse with her mask over her eyes.

“Yes, mom,” Stacey replied, semi-disappointed in tone, letting her mom get the impression that she’d won. Her mouth curled into a bratty smile and a starburst of excitement filled her belly. Later on, when she was sure Vivian was sleeping deeply, she slid out of bed and took the courtesy phone handset to the bathroom, running the water so as not to be overheard.

It rang one, two, three times, and then was picked up by a man with a pussy-melting bass in his voice. “Is this the front desk?” She nibbled on a strand of her hair as her nipples poked desperately into her gossamer teddy. She sat spread-legged on the closed toilet lid, and reached her opposite hand down to caress the silk bud of her clit. “I need a recommendation.”

_A recommendation for what_ , came the response.

“A good restaurant,” Stacey said. “In a really, _really_ bad neighborhood.”

 

 

> “Mom is such a hyprocrite! But I’m not going to let her have all the fun. I’m going to show these Damballah bulls that a little eighteen-year-old white girl has what it takes to handle every one of their MONSTER NIGGER BULL COCKS!” - Stacey

 

 

 


	2. The Wrong Alley

 

> **I told Stacey she should dress conservatively for dinner,**
> 
> **so she wouldn’t attract the attention of any black gangsta thugs!**
> 
> **But she came out dressed like a little slut, trying to show me up!**
> 
> **Well! Two can play at that game. - Vivian**

  
In addition to having only one bed that the two Whiteside women had to share, their suite had one bathroom. That meant with a dinner reservation in the evening, they had to start getting ready at noon - Vivian in the restroom, Stacey in main room. There was hair to be done. Clothing to be picked out and tried on. Makeup and perfume to be applied. Vivian had lived her life under the solemn promise to never be anything but the best looking woman in any restaurant she visited, and that included dinner with family. Stacey was stiff competition, but she hadn’t taught her daughter all of her tricks!

Wanting to set a good, conservative example, she chose red, polka dot tie-front chiffon blouse  that covered about fifty percent of her mammoth breasts, rather than her usual twenty-five percent. She forewent her diamond choker for a more subdued gold chain with locket, and even chose hoop earrings that were half her usual size. Nothing she wore could make her chest look anything but enormous, but the material and pattern at least distracted from her sheer size and revealed much less of her midriff than usual. The same was true of her slinky white skirt, which showed the hint of her generous outline and bulging cougar bubble-butt while still going down to the knee. 

It was definitely a hardship for Vivian to put together such a relatively ‘normal’ outfit, but she figured it was the proper example to set as a parent. After styling her beautiful blonde hair into a movie starlet mane, and applying touch-ups to her roots, ran some tooth-whitening strips across her sparkling veneers, and then began to expertly layer on her eyelashes and makeup, sparing the most egregious mascara teases in the name of conservatism… though in the end her lashes were still longer than most women would ever sport in their lives, and nothing could stop her smokey-eye makeup from complimenting her dazzling aquamarine color with a dark, inviting corona and metallic purple lids. The final touch was an application of a standard non-plumping lip gloss, which she hadn’t used in so long she actually had to blow cobwebs off of the bottle.

Vivian stepped into her ‘sensible’ heels -  _five_  inches instead of six, a white platform with anklet that perfectly matched her tight skirt - and beheld her composition with pride. Those dirty Damballah negroes would still want to fuck her brains out, she reasoned, but at least she had taken every precaution against their savage jungle depredations and could now enjoy a nice French dinner and several glasses of wine in relative safety! However, as she emerged from the bathroom and shut the door, however, her mouth dropped open and her bright blue eyes filled with shock. 

“What do you think you’re wearing!?” she gasped at her daughter.

Stacey had turned the main room and kitchen into her own personal dressing room, and had prepared there for their dinner while Vivian hogged the bathroom as usual. However, unlike Vivian, her outfit was utterly unrestrained. Her tiny plaid skirt didn’t even reach the curvy bottom of her ass, caressing her perfectly-formed hips with pleats that were a lewd callback to the innocence of a schoolgirl. As for her top, it had the  _collar_ of a schoolgirl’s blouse… but that was it. Below that, there was a tartan mini-tie that matched the skirt, laying neatly over a chopped-off white mantle that barely went down to her nipples, as well as a pair of elastic suspenders that connected to her skirt waist with cute buttons. Between these, her huge teen breasts bulged with gravity-defying perfection, showing off complete underboob on each side and flashes of nipple if she so much as moved.

“What do you mean?” Stacey asked, playing innocent as Vivian looked on, aghast. Stacey’s tiny skirt gave plenty of chances to glimpse between her legs, and her mother realized the 18-year-old bombshell was wearing no panties at all, intending to give every swinging dick in Damballah an eyeful of her tight teenage slit! Vivian’s eyes blazed with rage. With only scant time left before dinner, she’d been bamboozled by Stacey, who claimed she would dress down and had instead turned herself into the pouty-lipped, blonde, blue-eyed snow-bunny bombshell of every black man’s dreams! She looked around the room at the further evidence of her daughter’s betrayal as her petite hands balled into fists. 

“What do I mean!?” she yelled back. “You look like you’re ready go onstage at a strip club!” Her eyes looked from Stacey’s makeup bag to the kitchen counter, where several popsicle-stick applicators lay next to a small, cauldron-shaped wax warmer with a  _BUNNYPOT_  logo on the side. The applicator box was opened and featured the slogan:  _Be as smooth as HE wants_. This set Vivian off even more. “Did you  _wax_!?” she gasped, putting her hands to her cheeks as her face turned to an expression of terror. Vivian had been in the bathroom dolling herself up to hide her considerable charms, and meanwhile, Stacey was treasonously taking the grass off the field so every black buck in Damballah could play ball! The older woman was incensed at the betrayal, not to mention how vulnerable her teen daughter’s tight little white pussy would be to the attentions of hung, ghetto thugs!

“Come on, mom,” Stacey objected, her voice thick with eye-rolling teen impertinence. “I do that  _all_  the time! Just because I’m doing it right now doesn’t mean-”

“It looks like the girl scouts down there!” Vivian barked, crossing her arms under her huge boobs. Her mammaries poured out overtop of her wrists in a chiffon-covered wave. “And you know all those donkey-dick _coons_  can’t resist the lure of a tight little white pussy!”

Stacey realized that she needed only to push a little further in a certain direction. “Moooooom,” she whined, capping her lip gloss. “I’m sorry if you don’t get how young women dress and groom themselves in the modern age. I suppose that what happens when you get, you know. Old.” 

She was not the sharpest young woman in the world. She knew more about astrology than mathematics, and had recently tried to turn in a sociology report on the country of Wakanda, believing it to be a real place. But there was one area where she was an absolute genius - pushing her mother’s buttons. No sooner had her sentence concluded than Vivian’s lip turned up in a hyena snarl, twitching with anger. Her eyes narrowed to slits. Her face flushed with rage and her teeth clenched. Vivian’s temper was boiling with such force Stacey actually felt like she was hallucinating an aura of power around her mother. “OLD!?” Vivian bellowed. “I’ll show you who’s old!” She stalked to the luggage and took the largest suitcase, stuffed to the brim with her clothes, and hoisted it with ease. It didn’t matter that she was a petite bombshell of a woman; in the throes of her indignant rage, Vivian’s pipestem arms had the strength of the Incredible Hulk. She stalked to the bathroom and kicked the door in with one heel, dragging the suitcase behind her.

What happened next was a whirlwind. As she dressed, Vivian went on an unhinged rant about how today’s generation of women were nothing compared to her, that she’d gotten more male attention in her youth than Stacey and her giggling high school friends would do in a lifetime, that she’d been flown to Dubai and pampered by oil barons, she’d had stockbrokers and CEOs wringing champagne out of her thong and into their mouths when Stacy was just a glimmer in her eye. Clothes  _flew_  out the door as she raved. She discarded her chiffon blouse and wrapped her massive tits in a red bikini top with cups that barely covered her large, sensitive nipples let alone her vast expanses of golden titflesh. She  _poured_  out of it in all directions. For a “top”, she settled on a red lace mesh that was almost completely see-through, sure to let every rubbernecker see every detail of her tits. She tore off her white skirt and tossed it into the bathtub, stepping aggressively into the leg-holes of a  _tiny_  red thong that all but vanished between the thick cheeks of her bulging bubble butt. The crotch of this garment cradled her pussy as the puffy crescents of her labia presented their sinful shapes front and center. She wore nothing over this but a red lace sarong and waistwrap that was, like her blouse, almost totally see through. She tossed her five-inch heels and went back to scarlet stilettos that were as tall as she could manage without completely tipping over. Her earrings she dumped into the sink basin, replacing them with delicate gold hoops that were so large and slutty, they didn’t even have to hang from her ears because they rested on the gentle incline where her neck met her shoulders.

She returned to her favored diamond choker, which accentuated the swan-like grace of her neck to dazzling effect. She teased out her flowing blonde hair and gave it a few wild edges, so that it framed her face as a half-drunken party MILF instead of a regal ice goddess. And then, her secret weapon. Vivian stopped ranting long enough to search the depths of her handbag once again, eventually overturning the cavernous designer purse into the sink and pawing through makeup and sundries until she came to the glass box she hadn’t opened in years.

Inside was a pink bottle with the label “DSL”. The  _ultimate_  lip plumping gloss. Priced at $1000/bottle and made by a little-known brand called Queen of Spades, it was illegal to import because of the number of indigenous workers who died each year in its manufacture. Made with jungle tree frog venom and tropical capsaicin to irritate the lips and make them swell up to the nastiest bimbo dimensions, it was world-renowned to produce the hottest, fullest dick-sucker cock pillows possible with each application. In addition to the exotic ingredients, the special activated formula caused the salivary glands of the wearer to increase in function, resulting in the sloppiest, nastiest blowjobs ever! 

She opened the bottle and the spicy aroma made her dainty nostrils flare and her eyelids flutter. This concoction, which burned the nose like a ghost pepper hot sauce, was something she only broke out in emergencies - but for someone as vain as Vivian, being called “old” qualified as the largest crisis possible. She made a slutty duck-face as she painted the pink, shining gloss over her already-full lips. The burning, tingling sensation was immediate, and her mouth started to become wet with saliva as well, in much the same way a fat man might salivate at the thought of a delicious hamburger. And that wasn’t all. Her mind and body, sensing that she was dolling herself up for a really wild night, responded with fantasies about just what mischief those lips could get up to!

_God, when I get dressed up like this all I want to do is suck some dick,_  she realized.  _I need to choke on some big, long donkey cock and give some sloppy, fucked-up head!_

She felt a near-orgasmic tingle surge within her and smiled with satisfaction. Stacey had truly awakened the beast, and the Vivian that stared back from the bathroom mirror was the hottest, blonde-haired, blue-eyed bubble-butt snow bunny that had ever walked the earth. She was 39 years old, true, but her body was  _timeless_. She emerged from the bathroom a butterfly, risen from her conservatively-dressed cocoon. From the top of her head to the bottom of her cute and shapely feet, she was ready to  _get fucked and suck dick!_

“Alright!” she cried, shouldering her handbag and striding from the bathroom. She stood with legs shoulder-width apart, showing off that thigh gap, showing off that tight body with the toned abs and sculpted shoulders that she’d built at the gym over years and years. Showing off that massive, round bubble-butt that bulged behind her narrow waist. Her round, bulging tits overfilled the scant cups of her bikini. “I’m ready to go, Stacey. And when we’re at that restaurant, we’ll just see which one of us turns more heads!”

Stacey was impressed in spite of herself. She finished pulling up a pair of white, knee-high schoolgirl socks and shouldered her own purse, a black latex pocketbook with a pink smiley face on the flap cover. Her plan had been a success - her mom had gotten so upset at Stacey’s age-related teasing that she’d dressed up in a way that, in combination with her own outfit, was sure to attract every _swaggering, hung thug_  on the island! 

Stacey smiled slyly. She knew that her plan had worked perfectly. Dressed like they were, there was no way the two of them were getting to that restaurant uninterrupted. 

“Let’s go,” she replied. “The reservation is for six.” 

The two of them clicked and clacked out of the room together, their tanned bubble-butts bouncing and clapping in unison.

 

> **On the way to dinner, but we got cornered in an alley by**
> 
> **three big black nigger thugs! They gathered around Stacey**
> 
> **and they looked so huge compared to her! Unless I put a stop**
> 
> **to it, they were going to put every inch of their nigger cocks**
> 
> **deep in my daughter’s tight little white pussy! - Vivian**

“Well, we’re lost!” Vivian griped at Stacey, as they bounced through the darkening alleys of Damballah in lockstep. She glanced around fervidly at the corrugated steel walls that bracketed them on either side, which were painted over with menacing graffiti. The outskirts of Damballah had quickly given way to a mazework of unmarked streets. Thumping music seemed to come from all directions, and the smells of liquor, weed, and sex were heavy in the air.

“I swear, the restaurant is just a little further,” Stacey insisted, peering at her phone. They walked past a huge mural in black spraypoint - a dark-skinned man holding up a globe, like Atlas, his muscles bulging. BLACK GODS RULE HERE, it read. Vivian found the sentiment unsettling. It was as if they were slowly passing into a shadowy realm that was the domain of snarling, animalistic black deities. A jungle of spraypaint and metal, of empty beer bottles and smoldering ashtrays. Of club music. The bright calypso plinking of the Bull & Bimbo Cove had  long since faded away behind them, leaving only the deep bass thud of hip-hop and dance music from all directions. Vivian could see it in her mind’s eye - sweat-soaked black bodies, ripped with muscle, dancing in with white women who were utterly enchanted by the power of their negro idols, the brutal prowess of their huge, coal-black penises, the forbidden tang of their hot nigger sweat! Nominally this place was the Damballah City Center. But Vivian thought they might as well call it  _Niggerland_. She suddenly had a vision of her daughter dancing with a pack of black giants in a psychedelic haze of neon lights pulsing in marijuana smoke. Her stomach twisted.

“Let’s just turn around,” she said, suddenly. She looked sideways and saw more graffiti. Block letters reading GIMME THAT BRAIN and WHITE PUSSY. Tattered pinups of blonde, Caucasian models were posted at oblong angles, overwritten with tags reading FACE 2 NUT ON. It was such a sexually charged  _jungle_. Vivian could feel the  _blackness_  of it. Her nipples were rock hard beneath the triangular cups of her bikini and the tingle between her legs was getting impossible to ignore. Just thinking about what would be done to them if they were caught by a gang of black ghetto gangstas-

_God, why am I getting turned on thinking about how vulnerable we are?_

There was no answer - at least, not from Vivian. Instead, a new voice rang out. “Where do you think you’re goin’, ho?” It rumbled out of the shadows. A piece of corrugated metal was shifted aside, and from behind it, a black man emerged from an unlit alcove, towering over both of them by at least a foot. He was bare-chested beneath an open camo jacket, showing a rack of lean, powerful muscles, carved from dark wood. Matching olive drab shorts sagged low on his hips beneath the black waistband of boxer-briefs. His dreadlocks were pulled back and chopped into a wiry burst, with a shave on the sides. His nose and jawline were powerful and prominent; like those of a stone head on some distant mesoamerican shore. He was ripped with lean, predatory muscle, slightly more streamlined than the bulls she’d seen on the beach. More  _hungry_. More  _vicious_.

_God, he’s like a jungle animal_ , Vivian thought, and her heart skipped another beat.  _Just a tatted-up, nasty gangsta thug!_

He had a flashy gold watch on his wrist, above this, trailing up his massive forearm, was a line of rabbit decal ink - the record of his conquests. These were just a few of the many, many tattoos that wrapped everywhere on his black skin. A teardrop below one eye. A star on each elbow. On his lean, powerful pectorals a message could be read from left to right - “BLACK GODS” with an upraised fist of the black power movement inlaid below. His fingers shone with iced-out rings in gold, with two teeth aurified to match. His eyes were a colorless grey, and filled with the regal countenance of an African king. His dark skin glistened in the stray beams of light that penetrated the alley through the mazework of favelas.

As ever, though, it was his cock that drew Vivian’s avid blue eyes most. 

Down the leg of the black man’s shorts was the biggest cock-shaped bulge she could have ever imagined. It looked as thick as her arm and hung with an unspeakable  _weight_ , tugging the fabric of his clothing down with it. She felt her pussy tingle and begin to liquify at the sight of such a shameless display of sexual prowess. He must have had  _more than twenty inches_  of dark meat bulging out those shorts, and she  _knew_  that if she took a step toward him and wrapped two manicured hands around that bulge, she would feel it stir and spasm to life with an unspeakable  _black power_.

“Welcome, ‘hos, ” the man said, and it took only one stride for him to menace the two of them with his very presence. “You walked a little too far, and now you’re in  _my_  house. Judah’s house.” Vivian moved to stand between ‘Judah’ and Stacey, bidding her daughter scuttle backward as much as she could in her heels. However, Stacey didn’t get far before her booty pressed against the unyielding flesh of two men who had approached silently from behind, ducking out of alleyways that had been obscured by dusty blankets hanging from clotheslines.

“Ho’ up,” rumbled the thicker of the two men, catching Stacey and holding her against his powerful barrel belly. He was built like an NFL linebacker and had a dense black beard that covered his cheeks and chin. “You ain’t paid the toll. Don’t you bitches know? You gotta pay the  _toll_  if you gonna use these streets, little rabbit.” This widebody was flanked by a gangly black giant who was just as tall as the other was beefy; he looked down at Stacey impassively. Unlike his counterpart, he had no beard and no hair, his black skin was gleaming and bald, and as he wore no shirt, his muscled, sinewy body had the vascular detail of an anatomy chart. Long, cut abdominal muscles painted a trail downward for the imagination to follow. Designer warmup pants hung so low on his hips that she could see every detail of his pubis and the base of his enormous cock, which hung at least to his knee if the shape beneath his sportswear was any indication.

“Oh, fuck!” Stacey moaned as the stout black man’s heavy cock bulge ground against her teenage bubble-butt, making her cheeks jiggle. With no panties, she could feel the shape of that fat fuckmeat pressing against her tight little asshole and pussy!

“I think she likes us, Spyda,” rumbled the bearded man. 

“I think this little trick likes just about  _any_  nigga she find, Doc,” the tall man replied. He stood nearly two feet taller than Stacey, his words might as well have been beaming down from space. Between the two of them, the men had 400 pounds on her, and it made her smooth, taut tummy shiver with the thought of how easily they could lift her and toss her around if they wanted. She was just a tiny little blonde toy compared to that duo of big, black studs!

Vivian felt the big, black, walls closing in. She reached into her handbag and rummaged for the can of pepper spray that she kept at all times as a safeguard against men of non-white ethnicities who happened to walk too close to her. (She had used it three times in Saint Croix, and been forced by a municipal judge to write a letters of apology to the Black Episcopalian Ministry twice.) But of course it wasn’t there - it had been confiscated at airport security. 

_Of course Damballah Airlines would confiscate pepper spray_ , she realized, he mind whirling with conspiracy theories.  _To make it easier for their gangsta thug buddies on the island to accost innocent white women!_

“Lose the keys to the Crackermobile?” Judah asked, and took another giant stride forward, getting all up in Vivian’s face. His muscled chest seemed to form a black  _barricade_  before her eyes, promising no passage without a toll paid. “Ain’t no ride takin’ you past here, ‘ho.” His powerful hand moved to snatch her purse, but he didn’t bother looking inside it for cash or valuables. Instead, he tossed it wordlessly onto a graffiti-painted bench and then placed his powerful hand on Vivian’s shoulder. 

“O-Oh, fuck!” she moaned, instantly switched on by contact with his powerful black body. Her own palm went out, ostensibly to press against him and keep the space between… but as the flat of her hand pressed against his ripped, powerful abs, she couldn’t help but rub her fingers over every sweat-glistening bit of black flesh! And below that, if her hand went down to his sagging waistband, it would surely find-

_Oh fuck._ She couldn’t resist anymore.

“Don’t you fucking niggers lay one hand on my daughter!” Vivian warned, her words echoing in the alley. “If we have to pay the toll… I’ll make you  _work_  for your pay, nigger!” She slid her hands into Judah’s shorts and wrapped her hands around his cock, pulling upward letting it flop out over his unbuttoned fly and elastic waistband. It was thick as her bicep and hung down halfway to the ground - a true specimen of nasty, venous black donkey dick. And it would all be hers, she decided. She couldn’t let a cock like this get near Stacey. Her impressionable daughter didn’t have the willpower to handle something like this.  _Twenty-four inches_  of long nigger dong, dripping with sweat, riddled with raised veins, black as fucking tar, with a pair of monster nigger nuts that were totally stuffed with cum! 

She lifted her see-through lace top off over her head, letting her jugs jiggle in her bikini, before unclasping that as well and letting her massive tits fall free in all of their spherical perfection. They were huge, flawlessly complexioned, and intentionally artificial in their size and pertness. The breasts of a willing, man-pleasing blonde  _service doll_  who knew what men liked and was willing to give it to them. She held them up with both hands, the bulging volume of them pouring over her small hands, and teased Judah’s hanging back shaft with her pert pink nipples. 

“Damn bitch, you built out to  _here_ ,” Judah assessed, holding his hand a foot in front of his chest.

“That got your attention quick, didn’t it?” Vivian replied, narrowing her eyes. “You blacks are all the same.” She knelt in front of him, letting his half-hard pipe bounce and slide against her titflesh, before using her hands to press her jugs together around it, soothing that beast, letting the hardening length tilt upward and then slide snugly into the valley between her tits, so that when she pressed them together, the head emerged from the top of her cleavage. She looked at the fat pearl of pre-cum percolating in Judah’s piss slit and licked her lips, extending her tongue to tease that thick, swirling marble and draw it into her mouth. And after that foreplay, she opened us and took the entire cock-knob inside her wet, sloppy mouth. Her lips and mouth formed a nasty, stretched out sleeve around his pipe - the most elongated, vacuum-sucking blowjob face possible!

She sucked and slurped him, letting her mouth pop off with a loud noise every few seconds, really covering that meat with the nasty, bubbly mess from her gagging mouth and throat. "You like fucking my tits with that big nigger dick?" Vivian pouted, spitting the words in between plastering her drooling, slurping dicksuckers all over Judah's cockhead. Bubbles and strands of spit began to pour down his cockshaft as her lips and mouth made a tube-shape around his girth. Soon, spit was pouring down in between her tits, lubricating the channel to make a slicker, more satisfying passage. She used her delicate forearms to squeeze her heavy jugs together around that shaft, making half of it disappear like a magic trick until it emerged from her cleavage and into her sucking, licking mouth. The whole time, she maintained smoldering, accusatory eye contact. 

"This is what you fucking niggers like, isn't it?" she went on. "Threatening innocent white girls? Well, if I had my way, every one of you fucking black thugs would be in prison!" Her voice was a harsh hiss, and she punctuated it by moving her head down to slurp on the first six inches of Judah's thick meat, making her jaw creak around that black pipe. She felt a massive black hand move to her hair, pulling it back from her face and controlling her head, making her bob and gag on that meat! She made glottal choking noises but never stopped sucking.

"Yeah, give me that fuckin' neck, bitch!" Judah growled, and pumped his powerful hips, sending his bulging abyssal lance through the passage formed by Vivian's huge breasts and deeper into her throat. Saliva was absolutely pouring down his meat now, covering Vivian's breasts in a sticky foam, oiling them up to ease his way. "You all about that nigga dick, huh?"

Vivian squeezed her breasts together extra tight and extended her wet tongue over her pillowy bottom lip, milking that cock upward with the pressure of her titmeat, trying to bring up the cum that was boiling in that long, black shaft. " Shut up! You want a toll? Well, I’ll work your nigger ass like this was a fucking cotton field!” she spat. “If this was a hundred years ago, I'd have you strung up from a tree just for looking at my daughter the wrong way!" she hissed. "You and your friends! You're just a bunch of runaway slaves!" Her voice had become a sexual purr, filled with a her pure lust for treating black men like property. She was taunting him. She wanted that  _hate fuck_. She wanted his indignance at her racial slurs to manifest itself in what she expected from black males - an urge to breed, to defile, to empty their big black balls! 

"Bitch, you need to learn when to shut up!" Judah said, and pulled her mouth back down on his cock, pumping a dozen more hot, throat-stretching thrusts into her face while she milked him with her breasts. Bubbly spit poured out of the seal that her plump, moist dicksuckers formed around his jaw-stretching girth. When he gripped her head and pulled it back, looking down on her like a towering black colossus, Vivian didn’t flinch and stared back up as his cock pummeled her tits and sawed up and down in front of her mouth. 

“Cum on my fucking  _face_ , nigger!” she seethed. Her tits milked implacably upward as Judah’s hand tightened on her hair, pulling it back, exposing her perfect white bimbo face, the cheekbones, the lips, the blue eyes, the slender nose. Vivian opened wide and stuck out her flat, spit-soaked tongue as Judah grunted and a plume of thick, chunky semen blasted into her face. It plastered her teeth and slopped into her mouth. The next shot lanced into her neck and splattered there. She made cooing, satisfied noises as she titfucked that black shaft and drew rope after hot rope of cum up and out and onto her face, her lips, her tongue, into her mouth, and all over both her tits.

_Oh my fucking god_ , she marveled.  _He fucking plastered my face and my tits and he’s still pumping nigger cum all over me! What a nasty black breeding bull!_

She slurped the spurting cockhead into her mouth and started to drink the thick cream spewing from the tip. Her mouth, face, and tits were a bubbly, cum-covered mess, and her thong was absolutely soaked, as well as her inner thighs. The feeling of those fat, gooey wads of cum sliding down her throat and into her stomach made her body tremble with with a forbidden heat. And when the flow finally began to ebb, she knelt before that flaccid, swinging pendulum of a dick and rubbed Judah’s cream over every inch of her breasts, oiling them up with his sperm. 

“Mmm, I guess we can consider the toll paid,” she teased him, a smile coming to her face as she rose to her feet. Vivian was swelling with confidence, looking like the cat who had caught the canary. Menacing as her big, black partner was, she had taken care of him in just a few minutes. “Now, my daughter and I are going to go back to America and our rich, successful  _white_  boyfriends.” Vivian expected Judah to crumble a little under her taunts, but he only stood impassively so she continued. “Just remember that it was only because we felt our lives were threatened that I did this. Normally, me and my innocent daughter would never interact with a bunch of lazy, weed-smoking nig-...” She stopped mid-slur when she noticed that Judah had started to chuckle confidently. Gradually, his chuckle grew into a laugh, and his laugh into a gasping, hyena guffaw. 

Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “What are you laughing at?” she asked. And instead of answering, Judah brought a huge hand out to grip her head and turn it sideways, whirling Vivian’s neck around so she could behold what was going on behind her. When she did, her face broke into an expression of startled horror.

“Stacey!” she cried, and her hands flew to her cheeks to complete her look for surprise.

 

> **Mom tried to hog the spotlight as usual, but I wasn’t**
> 
> **going to let her have all the fun. While she was**
> 
> **draining Judah’s balls with a titty-fuck, I dropped**
> 
> **right to my knees in front of the other two hung black giants!**
> 
> **Spyda’s cock was like eighteen inches of black meat,**
> 
> **and Doc’s was almost as long and sooo thick! I know it’s**
> 
> **wrong for a young blonde, blue-eyed white girl**
> 
> **to say, but I love monster nigger cocks!” - Stacey**
> 
>  

  
Vivian’s eyes went wide as she saw what her daughter was doing. Stacey had dropped into a lewd stripper squat, causing her tiny schoolgirl tartan to pull up over her golden-tanned bubble butt, and used her hands to caress and stroke the heavy cock bulges of the two massive black studs. She looked so submissive and dominated by their size, so vulnerable - but that wasn’t the worst part. Stacey’s thighs were wet and a glistening rivulet of hot lube was leaking from her puffy cleft and to the floor of the alley. Vivian realized that her daughter’s little teen pussy was positively creaming for the pair donkey-dick black studs!

“Stacey! Stop that this instant!” she barked, spreading her arms wide. “You can’t give in to these nasty, jungle animals! I just this one nut all over my tits so we could leave!”

“Looks like yo’ daughter is about to give some neck,” Judah teased, and leaned down over Vivian’s shoulder, sliding a hand around her chest and hugging her huge tits with with his hand and wrist. “She loves that nigga dick. Guess you were kinda full of shit when you were talkin’ that mess about white pride and white boyfriends back in America, huh?” Vivian stood aghast as she was manhandled and had her cum-soaked boobs squeezed, feeling the rough heat of his tattooed wrist sliding against her nipples, having her ample breast-meat twisted and kneaded in his big, black palm! Her teeth dug into her puffy lower lip and she could feel that fat, black donkey dick pressing against the spherical mounds of her bubble butt! God, he had just cum and he was already set to go again? 

Vivian had been all set to pay the ‘toll’ herself - taking the bullet, so to speak, in the cultural war for her daughter’s virtue. But now Stacey was squatting like a pole dancer in front of a couple of hung  _nigger bulls_! She felt rage and dismay, mixed with something else. A tingling between her legs. Seeing her tiny daughter  _kneeling_  and  _worshiping_  and  _submitting_  to those huge, coal-black gangsta thugs, it was-

“Oooh, f-fuck!” she moaned, as Judah’s huge hand slid into the front of her red thong and a fingers like sausages slid achingly against her pussy mound, pressing against her clit, finding her wetness and smearing it, grinding it into her folds. “Y-you fucking… nasty black motherfucker!” she groaned. 

“Bitch, you creamin’ yo’self watchin’ your daughter get that nigga pipe!” Judah rumbled in her ear. He brought a powerful hand to her jaw and held it steady as he pressed his cheek in next to hers, forcing her to watch the show along with him as his thick fingers worked her wet pussy mound.

As Vivian watched, Stacey had her small hands on the waistband of Spyda and Doc’s designer athletic gear, pulling it down to let their huge cocks hang right in her face. Her pouty little teen mouth opened in a hungry “O” shape of surprise as both black meat masts unfurled on either side. “Fuck!” she moaned, reaching out to take each half-hard, drooping shaft. “You have such big, nasty dicks!” She kneaded their nutsacks as well, looking up at the glowering men with plaintive, innocent baby-blue eyes, letting them know that she wanted every drop of what they had in those big, black sperm tanks. “And your balls are so fuckin’ big!” 

“Get those titties out, ‘ho,” Doc growled, and helped her peel off her scant white top and tie, leaving her breasts bare and bulging between her suspenders. He groped her roughly while Stacey nippled her lower lip, enjoying the feeling of having her teenage breasts manhandled. “Damn,” he observed. “She’s almost as big as her moms!” 

“Fuck, this is so nasty!” Stacey moaned. She was feeling wild, free, and in desperate need to please. Everything about Spyda and Doc - their crudeness, their size, their alpha blackness, the hint of danger and forbidden sexuality - made her want to fuck them more than any white boy she’d ever dated. She loved squatting with her legs spread and her pussy dripping, servicing a couple of hung black studs! 

She hardly resisted when Spyda brought his hands to her waist and lifted her off the ground like a tiny blonde toy, turning her in the air until she was upside down and her pussy was near his face. Since she was upside down, she gripped his cock brought the tip up to her mouth, planting a kiss on that dark-skinned prick helmet and wiggling her tongue against the slit, drink the hot, sticky pre-cum that was leaking into her mouth and loving the nasty taste! It drove her even more wild when Spyda extended his long tongue and buried it in her sopping pink teenage slit, devouring it like a ripe peach. “Oh my fuckin’ gawd!” Stacey moaned. Her sensitive, tight passage was being roughly eaten and it was driving her wild. Her round bubble butt and wet slit were right in Spyda’s face, she started to bob and choke on his long black dong in return, bobbing her head on the six inches and getting it wet and nasty with spit. Her hair hung down, partially obscuring the action, but there was no hiding the sounds she was making - big, wet, glottal throating noises as she gagged on that black pole!

Vivian’s head was spinning. “Stacey!” she cried, still held in Judah’s powerful arms. She could feel his cock pressing against her backside. God, it was such a fucking  _monster_. And more troubling - the expression on her daughter’s face as she moaned with ecstasy and enthusiastically gave gagging, upside-down, sloppy head to Spyda’s long black dong! She was enjoying it! She was  _happy_  to be doing whatever those nigger thugs wanted! Vivian began to put it all together. The dinner reservation in a terrible neighborhood. The taunting that had led her to dress so provocatively. The constant ogling and flirting with oversexed black bucks! Stacey had no intention of looking for a while boyfriend, she realized. 

“You little NIGGER FUCKER!” she snapped at her daughter, her face full of rage. “After all I did to keep you safe from these black thugs! Look at you! That  _coon_  is licking out your wet, tight teenage pussy like he’s eating a watermelon! And you’re drooling all over his long nigger dick!” It was a scene straight out of the Top 10 Bimbo Betrayals. Stacey’s secret lust for black men was coming out into the open in front of her mother’s unwilling eyes!

 

> **They held Stacey up between them and spread her legs -**
> 
> **I could see was creaming all over their big cocks! My blonde-haired,**
> 
> **blue-eyed teen daughter was going to get fucked by a**
> 
> **couple of nigger thugs, and it made me wet, seeing the size**
> 
> **difference between their monster dicks and her tight little pussy and ass! - Vivian**

  
Doc pulled Stacey’s tartan skirt from her waist, tossing it aside, suspenders and all. She was totally bare, and when Spyda had finished making her tiny body quake by eating out her wet, pink slit, he flipped her and turned her, clutching her back against his chest while Doc closed from the front. It was like watching big, black tectonic plates shift and close. She’d been slurping both of their cocks while upside down, and now they were rock hard and bobbing in the air cobras from a snake charmer’s pot, ready to do some damage. They sandwiched her between them - a slice of fresh, moist chicken between two slices of black bread -  and spread her knees so her legs protruded to either side, held aloft by Spyda’s massive black hands. She was totally exposed, and their leaking, spit-slick cock crowns were rubbing and grinding against her furrow, making her bite her glossed up lips and moan.  
  
Judah was still making Vivian watch. Spyda had more than foot and a half of long, ass-wrecking nigger meat, and Doc’s vein-throbbing cock was so fat, it seemed impossible that it would fit inside her. Doc took a long hit off a blunt and then Stacey eagerly started making out with him, her cute little doll face the mirror image of his gruff, black, bearded countenance. She kissed him lewdly and sucked his tongue while he blew a full exhale of dizzying blunt smoke down her throat, the most culturally-destructive violation yet. Vivian would rather Stacey suck on the tailpipe of her BMW than haul down a fat hit of weed out of the mouth of some nasty black thug, but she had no choice but to watch as Stacey moaned and broke the kiss before blowing twin plumes of smoke out of her own tiny nose.  
  
“I’m sorry, mom,” she said, looking sideways. “But I fucking love niggers!”  
  
They let her drop down as they thrust their hard, black pelvises up, and their cocks plowed into Stacey, making her cry out and rake her long fingernails against Doc’s muscled, tattooed back. Vivian could believe the two huge dicks would even fit inside. At first it seemed like they would only push her tight holes inward and stop, too large to penetrate, but then they slid inside, spreading her,  _burrowing_  into her pussy and up her ass.  
  
“No, no, no!” Vivian cried, bringing her hands up to her eyes. But she couldn’t resist peeking through her fingers as Stacey was sandwiched between the two grunting, thrusting black bucks. They were slowly impaling her, a few more inches at a time.  
  
“Oh… fuck… yes! Fuck me!” Stacey moaned, pant and gasping with exertion. She again looked sideways at her mother, and moaned out the dark truth inside her in time with the further stretching of her tight little pixie holes. “God, I just want to worship black men and be a perfect little white toy for them! I want to take the biggest, blackest niggers in every hole!” They were pumping. Sweating. Squeezing her between them. Their shafts were absolutely soaked in her wetness as they slid in and out of her, stretching the bubblegum pink membranes of her slit and anus. With each withdrawal from her pussy, Doc’s cock, thicker than her arm, dragged out an inch-long pink section of her vaginal walls, the grip was so tight. Spyda was so deep in her guts, her belly seemed to flutter every time he pumped all the way to his base. Her cute little feet wiggled out a message of overwhelmed sexual jeopardy in midair.  
  
“You said you don’t want any more black homeowners in St. Croix,” she moaned at her mother. “But there’s a  _new piece of black-owned property_  in St. Croix now. Me! I’m...nnngh... a little black-owned snow-bunny, mom. Nnnngh! Fuck! I never want to date a white boy again. Every day I’m going to go down to the... nnngh... worst parts of town... and kneel in front of the nastiest, most violent black gang members I can find, and I’m going to suck and fuck every one of them!”  
  
She pressed her face into Doc’s mighty linebacker shoulder, licking and kissing and moaning her ecstasies into his bulldozer frame. “Damn, bitch!” he grunted. “Yo’ pussy takin’ every inch of this nigga dick! Tight as fuck!” With Spyda doing the work of holding Stacey’s tiny little body up in the air, his iced-out hands were free to explore her breasts, and her pressed them upward and toward his face, biting her pink nipples and exploring that bounty of teenage tit-meat, groping and sucking them into torpedo shapes.  
  
“F-Fuck, yes! Suck on my tits!” Stacey urged, and her hands redoubled their scrabbling on his mountainous shoulders. “It feels so good! I’m fucking cumming all over your monster cocks!” Meanwhile, Spyda changed his grip from the crook of her knees to lifting up underneath her tanned, toned bubble butt.  
  
“Fuckin’ ass meat!” he assessed, cupping her cheeks in his massive palms. His long, powerful fingers enfolded over her buttocks like the legs of the arachnid he was named for, and Stacey’s bountiful 18-year-old _white_  booty flesh bulged through the spaces between.  
  
“You were right, mom!” Stacey gasped in Vivian’s direction. “Black guys love my  _bubble butt_. Because you know what I realized? All that time I spend in the gym is just showing out for black men! When I diet or exercise, when I buy clothes, when I do my makeup, all I’m thinking about from now on is whether black men will like it! I’m just a little slut who wants to make black dicks hard! I’m going to be a little white fucktoy for the most hung niggers!” She ran her pink tongue over her glossed, puffy lips and her perfect white white teeth. “It makes me so wet to be a snow bunny! A white trophy teen! A  _thug sucker_!”  
  
Vivian stood looking shellshocked as she listened to her daughter’s diatribe. Her attempt to instill racial pride had failed, and now her little white daughter was getting her holes absolutely worked over by two of the biggest, blackest studs she had ever seen. She had mental images of the walls of dignified European castles being breached by dozens, hundreds, thousands of black African warriors from the most abyssal depths of their  _ikandas_. Seven feet tall. Coal-black. Bones through their noses, faces painted. She saw European civilization descend into blackness. The crown jewels of England melted down into a pimp chalice. Hooded hoodlums tagging gang logos on the Arc de Triomphe. Weed smoke hotboxing the Sistine Chapel. And legions of Zulu warriors marching through the streets while pale-skinned, large breasted women with perfect cheekbones and wasp-waists knelt submissively before their new  _nigger gods_.  
  
She should have been disgusted by the gruesome violation in front of her. But there was something else. Judah was still groping her huge tits and fingering her, and he was  _very good at it_. Alongside her shame, a dark need was swirling in her taut, warm belly as she watched Spyda and Doc pound Stacey with their long, black cocks, a need that seemed to be growing at every moment. The distilled image of black sexual menace - that tale as old as time, of black men as dangerous, defiling, white-lusting savages - was exactly the sort of thing that got Vivian’s motor revving!  
  
She let out a desperate moan as Judah put a firm hand on the back of her head and bent her over, making her place her palms flat on corrugated metal wall, just a foot from where Stacey was being suspended and fucked. His deep, dark voice rumbled in her ear like a black thundercloud. “Now you see the secret of Damballah,” he said. “The beach is fo’ white women who already know what they want. And the alley is fo’ white women who need to be  _shown_ what they want.” He stripped her thong down her leg; it was so soaked with her lube that it nearly made a splatting noise as it landed. She gasped. Her eyes locked with Stacey’s - Vivian saw that her daughter was experiencing amazing pleasure. She had totally given in to her  _nigger gods_  and was having orgasm after orgasm while those monster black cocks pounded her tight little holes!  
  
“Y-You… nasty fucking niggers!” Vivian said, her voice cracking a little. God, her body was absolutely burning with need. Her back was arched, her twin butt-globes jiggling behind her with perfect roundness, above long, toned legs. She was completely lubed up and dripping.  
  
“Beg for it,” Judah growled. “Or you can just sit here and burn. And then go home to your white-ass husband or boyfriend, thinkin’ ‘bout what might have been.”  
  
“Fuck you, nigger!” Vivian growled. Her pride would not allow her to give in, but when she felt that uncoiled black monster dick flop between the round cheeks of her ass, she let out a gasp and groan. Her clapping, PAWG booty was acting as a platform for  _two feet_  of massive nigger meat! He pressed up against her and she could feel the fat head leaking hot pre-cum onto the tanned, toned smoothness of her back, and the big pair of nigger balls brushing against her thighs. They seemed the size of coconuts, and Vivian knew from experience, they were full of the thickest, nastiest nigger cum she could ever imagine! Judah had already blasted her face and tits and filled up her stomach earlier. Now he was ready to go again, just as she’d expect from a sex-crazed nigger bull!  
  
“It feels… so good...mom!” Stacey moaned as Spyda and Doc continued to fuck her from both sides, her suspended body rising and falling between them with the meaty sound of deep penetration. “These huge black cocks are making me cum over and over again!”  
  
“Come on, bitch,” Judah taunted, slapping his prong on Vivian’s assmeat and making it jiggle, first the left cheek, then the right. “You know you want to get this pipe! So ask for it! Ask for it and I’ll give you what you crave, ‘ho!”  
  
“You fucking…  _coon_!” Vivian wailed, out of pure frustration, squinting her eyes shut and balling her fists against the wall in frustration. She realized she had lost, and that the tables had turned. The floodgates had burst and she threw a tantrum in the only way she knew how. “You jig! You thick-lipped  _spade_! You cotton-picking, lazy porch monkey! You weed smoking, fried-chicken-eating, banana-peeling  _spook_!” But in that alley her words had no power. It wasn’t a job interview or a de-segregation rally or a voting booth, or anywhere in America. It was Damballah, and without the power structure to back her up, the cops, the good old boys, the country clubs, the gerrymanderers and the media, her slurs were as impotent as a white cuck.  
  
“Ah ah!” Judah scolded, and then actually  _spanked_  Vivian’s hot, 39-year-old MILF bubble butt like she was a little submissive toy. His confidence made her tremble even more. “If you gonna throw a tantrum, I’m gonna put yo’ ass down for a nap and let your daughter handle my shit. Now beg for it!”  
  
Vivian felt that throbbing black meat against her asshole and draped over her back and knew it feel  _amazing_ to take every inch in her ass. She was stuck in the vicious circle of her own prejudice - the more she verbally abused black men, the hornier she became. And now it was being used against her. She looked to her right and saw Stacey moaning as she was fucked, her little white pussy stretching and milking Doc’s fat monster dick while Spyda pumped  _twenty inches_  of long, black dong into her ass. They were in her  _guts_. Her innocent daughter was being  _niggerfied_ , and it was turning Vivian on so much, it felt like a supernova was ready to burst in her belly.  
  
She  _needed_  it.

> **I don’t know why I got so turned on watching those nigger thugs**
> 
> **pound my daughter’s tight ass, and stretch out her pussy!**
> 
> **They made her their little blonde fuckdoll, and she was loving every second!**
> 
> **Judah’s cock was even longer than Spyda’s and thicker than Doc’s.**
> 
> **Watching Stacey service those nigger dicks- I couldn’t help it!**
> 
> **I wanted to take every inch of that meat and be the best white slut he’s ever had! - Vivian**
> 
>  

“Fuck me, nigger!” Vivian cried out, at last. “I need that big, black cock!” It was a humiliating reversal, but she couldn’t stand any more. She needed to get fucked, and Judah had just the tool for the job - a bestial black prong that would absolutely dominate her wet, white holes. He needed no further prompting, and his fat prick helmet pressed against Vivian’s pussy as he started to work his way inside. It was an obscene size differential between her puffy quim and his lube-basted knob, and Vivian gave a long, desperate, purring moan as her lips slowly parted and Judah’s full girth slid inside. Fireworks started bursting in her belly immediately from the combined physical and mental sensation of taking that meat. Judah shoved forward and more than a foot of cock slid into Vivian’s sopping slit. Her pussy was  _creaming_  for it, covering his shaft a bubbly white coating of mixed pre-cum and her own juice. And as he positioned himself to push further in and his venous, bulging pipe abraded her pussy walls, she orgasmed and squirted helplessly all over the ground, moaning out with the sudden pleasure.  
  
“Damn! Wet as fuck!” Judah said, and slapped her jiggling ass again. “You love this nigga dick, don’t you? I want to hear you say that shit, ‘ho!”  
  
“I fucking loooove nigger dick!” Vivian moaned, biting her lower lip and looking back over her shoulder animalistically. Her usual racist sneer was tempered heavily, however, by obvious pleasure.  
  
“Say it again!” SMACK! Another spank on her bulging ass. Treating her like  _meat_ , blonde ass-meat for any black carnivore to enjoy.  
  
“I love nigger dick! I’d fucking do anything for black cock!” Vivian responded, and then cried out as he pumped another six inches into her pussy. Her hungry cervix eagerly accepted his fist-sized cock crown as it filled her white womb and tented it up into her guts. Her inviting, wet pussy was just a cocksleeve for monster black dicks, and it felt so good! When Judah began to thrust, only a couple of inches remained outside of her pussy. Like a magic trick, Vivian’s bombshell body had taken nearly the entire thing! She felt a twisted sense of pride as he began to pound, stretching her out, grinding that cocktip as deep as it would go, drawing out sinful sensations from the deepest depths of her white womb. She was taking an even bigger black dick than her daughter! Of the two of them, she was the better white slut. Her tits and ass were better-suited to being used by black men. And her plumped up, moist lips were the better pair of  _nigger suckers_.   
  
She began to thrust her hips back into Judah’s pelvis, taking an active role in the fucking. It was clear to everyone that she was a white bitch in heat, and the nasty bimbo mouth that previously had dropped every slur in the book was now turned to the purpose of amping up her black studs and driving him to fuck her even harder. “I want you to empty your fucking nigger balls in my pussy!” she moaned, her mind filled with images of black-bred blondes. “Drop that nigger load in my fucking womb, like the black breeding bull you are!”  
  
“You wanna get these seeds, ho’?” Judah said, pumping into her pussy. The intensity of their fucking had caused his muscled body to glisten with sweat. “What you gonna do for me to get this nigga nut?”  
  
“You can fuck my daughter too!” Vivian moaned back, cumming her brains out and lost in twisted, black fantasies. Her countenance - cum covered, macara melting, tears running - was just as fucked up as her morality, but nothing could erase her stunning beauty.  “I’ll spread her little pussy for you can feed her every inch of that nigger meat!” The devilish look in her eyes indicated that, at least in the heat of the moment, she meant every word. Driven to the brink by Judah’s amazing, orgasm-dredging cock, Vivian Whiteside had been totally  _blacked_. There was nothing she wouldn’t do with her blonde body, no social or legal barrier she wouldn’t cross to please the black conquerors who dominated her fantasies.  
  
“Oh my gawd, mom!” Stacey moaned, still being pounded just inches away. “That’s so fucking nasty! I’m going to go off birth control! I’m gonna- oh fuuuuuuuuuuck! Give me that fucking nigger cum!” She tossed her head back and clutched herself to Doc again as both he and Spyda cried out and buried their black rods to the hilt in her sopping, well-fucked holes.   
  
“Yeah, get this nigga nut, bitch!” Spyda grunted, and the abbreviated twitching motions of he and Doc told the story of dozens of fat ropes of sizzling, pouring into Stacey’s ass and pussy. Her face was a mask of utter ecstasy as she was  _filled up_  by her duo of hung black bulls. “You know you love this shit!” Stacey’s eyed fluttered and her she panted out of an open mouth - a total blonde bitch in heat! She could  _feel_  the fat, voluminous blasts of black seed painting her insides! It only took a few moments before she was stuffed full and wet, sloppy gouts of cum started squeezing out of the seals her pussy and ass made around their rampaging cocks.  
  
“Fuck! You black thugs turned Stacey into a nasty little blonde nigger fucker!” Vivian moaned, eyes shut, thrusting her hips back into Judah’s cock, wanting his pole to stretch out her womb and turn her into just another blonde trophy to ink on his arm. “Her little white pussy is a fucking cumdump for niggers now! Her ass too! She’s filled with nigger cum!” The disgrace of it - at least to her mind - only fueled her desire to have the nastiest racially-charged sex possible with her black bull!   
  
“You like that, don’t you, ‘ho? Niggas runnin’ a train on yo’ trick ass daughter?” Judah gritted his teeth and gave Vivian every inch he could, drawing a warbling moan. Her warm, wet, inviting pussy had somehow taken two feet of fat black cock, all the way to the balls! Even with the problem of her abusive mouth, he had to admit she was the finest piece of white ass he’d ever had! They were both getting close to their physical limits. Vivian’s white pussy was an absolute ball-draining machine, and Judah’s black ramrod was likewise impossible to resist. Though she’d been cumming near-constantly since he penetrated her, Vivian could sense an orgasm building up that was larger than she’d ever had in her  _life_. She could sense the shape of it - a big, glowing neon bomb inside her pussy, and Judah had lit the fuse.   
  
“Fuck yes!” Vivian groaned, as she sensed herself going over the edge. Her tits bounced and her ass-meat clapped with the impact of his thrusts. “Cum in my pussy, nigger! I want you to fill me up with all the nasty, chunky nigger nut in those huge black balls! Cum in my pussy and then you can fuck my little blonde, blue-eyed, white daughter too! Just like all your nigger homeboys! I’ll suck your fucking cocks and get you hard enough to go another round! I’ll choke on that dick, suck your fucking balls and toss your fucking salad too! Cum for me! Empty your nigger balls in my  _white_  cunt!  
  
Judah grunted again, and hilted himself to the base in her twat for the final time, his fist-sized cockhead burrowing into her guts and making her womb float up hear her stomach, stretching her and exploring her and bending her in unspeakable, mind-breaking ways. “Take my load you nasty-ass ‘ho!” he seethed, and a huge unbroken stream of virile, impregnating black seed began to erupt into Vivian’s white womb, making it expand like a mushroom cloud, drowning her most sacred areas in white-genociding, mulatto-making nubian spunk. In the midst of her own cum-blasting, Vivian saw Doc withdraw from Stacey, his cocks popping from her pussy with a lewd  _schlooorp_ , leaving a bursting rivers of thick semen to pour out of the pink, slick flower of her sex. Spyda’s spasming dick was still in her ass, and the tall black giant turned her with ease toward Vivian. At the same time, Judah, still hilted and cumming, pulled Vivian off the wall and faced her toward her daughter’s bald, wet, cum-dripping slit.  
  
Vivian was so close to the ultimate orgasm, and when Spyda walked forward, carrying Stacey and placing her exposed pussy just inches from Vivian’s panting face, she was too far gone into the throes of black-dominated debauchery to do anything but open her mouth to accept the flow of semen pouring out of her daughter’s black-bred slit. Her long tongue extended and began to gather a thick pile of the stuff, pulling into her mouth, her mind reveling in drinking the  _nigger cum_  that had been pumped into her own daughter’s tight little black-owned cunt!   
  
Judah’s huge load of cum began to pour back out of Vivian - her womb was totally full and could take no more. And he was still cumming. Her orgasm ripped through her like an atomic explosion, and she could not help it. The spasm of every muscle in her tight, toned body made her surge forward, she craned her neck upward and extended her tongue, sliding the tip into her daughter’s pussy, probing instinctively her insides and the throbbing pearl of her clit.  
  
“Mom, oh my gawwwwd!” Stacey cried out, her eyes filled with unexpected pleasure. Her belly twisted to another, final orgasm that made her body quake as she gasped while burying her hands in her mother’s blonde hair. “It... feels so fucking good!”  
  
They came together, and Vivian eventually went limp, her arms hanging down, the rhythmic aspirations of her breathing the only evidence of her being alive. When Judah pulled out and let his fat fuckmeat swing in a flaccid arc between his legs, dripping with her juices, she slumped to the alley floor like a bubble-butt bimbo blonde doll whose strings had been cut, joining her daughter, who was released by Spyda in similar fashion. Both Whiteside women had been completely and utterly  _blacked_. Their toned, sculpted forms were covered in cum, they were barely conscious from their orgasms, their makeup leaking black tears down their cheeks, their hair tangled and wild, with huge outflows of semen pouring from their white pussies. Instinctively they embraced each other, panting desperate breaths into each others faces, their huge tits compressing together.  
  
“Fuck,” Stacey whimpered. “Black guys are so amazing!”  
  
They fell into shadow as the three black monsters gathered around them, their heavy cocks hanging menacingly down to the eye-level of the two girls.   
  
“What you got to say now, ‘ho?” Judah growled down a Vivian. Of the dark shadows cast by the three muscled giants, his seemed the longest and darkest, and his hanging black pipe swung the lowest, dripping cum and swaying hypnotically in front of Vivian’s face. She reached out and gripped the shaft with an almost gentle reverence. Her atomic bomb orgasm had, for the moment, utterly subjugated her and convinced her of the  _black truth_.  
  
“Please,” she begged, and her blue eyes were desperate as they looked up at Judah. “Fuck Stacey as well. Impregnate my daughter with your 24-inch  _nigger godhood_.” And she leaned in and planted a wet, sucking kiss directly on his fist-sized cockhead, making out with it lovingly, worshipfully, making her offering to the hulking, muscled black emperors that now ruled every corner of her mind.  
  
Judah, Spyda, and Doc exchanged glances and laughed. And in the skies above Damballah, the sun had started to set, gilding them all in the purple-orange light of evening.

 

> **“Mom and I decided to cancel our flight back and stay an extra two weeks in Damballah.**
> 
> **She’s started to come around on black guys, and promised to stop being so**
> 
> **racist all the time so we just enjoy their monster black cocks for the rest of this vacation!**
> 
> **It’s so much better than Europe! - Stacey**

  
Vivian sighed with contentment as she sunned herself in Damballah’s Bull & Bimbo Cove, a beautiful beach filled with white sand, cool ocean breezes, skin-baking summer heat, and all the muscled, donkey-dick black studs she could ever want! A sign boasted that a ratio of two bulls to one blonde was to be expected, and Vivian availed herself of this for day after day of wine, music, and spa-style pampering.  
  
“More sangria, missus?” asked Claude, her personal bull for the day. He was 6’6, probably 300 pounds of black meat, and his speedo nearly exploded off of his body with the weight of his monster black cock.  
  
“Yes, Claude. Thank you. And I could use some tanning lotion, please.” She gave her orders from behind the shadow of oversized starlet sunglasses, while unhooking her bikini. She was laying on her front, and her huge tits poured out and bulged against the beach blanket. Claude languished beside her, allowing her to bask in the presence of his huge cock and muscles, and poured her cocktail. She smiled at him and took a slutty, lips-pursed sip through a decorative straw.  
  
After the big blowout in the alley, she and Stacey had admitted to each other that they both had certain… needs… that black men were quite good at attending to, and decided to stay in Damballah without arguing any further. Vivian promised that she wouldn’t judge her daughter for her choice of companionship, and also made a pledge to stop using so many racial slurs all the time. She stretched and squealed with relaxation as Claude used his huge black palms to rub tanning lotion into her back, her neck, and the round, bulging peaks of her bubble-butt, spending extra attention on that part, really spreading them, groping them, making that ass meat bulge between his fingers and then clap back together around her tiny thong.  
  
“Mmm, Claude,” she purred. “How about you shove your big, black cock in my ass?” This was an invitation she’d used many times over her stay and it was one that had, thus far, never been refused. But before Claude could get into position to really plow into her pipes, Stacey returned to the beach blanket with a duo of bald, black studs in tow, one on each arm.  
  
“Mom, meet Loc and Link. They’re twins!” Hellos were exchanged, and Stacey, who was in a matching thong bikini, dipped down to the blanket to lay beside her mother and unfastened her own top. Their huge beasts piled under their bodies in a mirror image of each other.   
  
“You know,” she confided in Vivian naughtily. “Birth control isn’t 100% effective anyway.” Now that her mom’s guard was down re: black men, it felt like the time to share a few more shameful fantasies. “When we get back to St. Croix I might be having a black baby!”   
  
The thought made Stacey wet, and she scanned her mother’s face to see if it turned her on just as much. Perhaps now, Stacey thought, her mother had been cured of her racism, and could appreciate black men for the superior specimens they were! Vivian looked at her silently and sipped her sangria.  
  
“Mmm, I can just imagine,” Vivian said, at last. Her voice was a little tipsy, for she’d been drinking cocktails all morning. She paused, then her face turned stern as she waved an arm around and addressed Stacey. “But good luck getting child support out of any of these  _lazy nig_ -”  
  
“MOM!” Stacey burst out, frowning. The three black studs gathered around the blanket looked at each other quizzically.  
  
Vivian just shrugged and looked around incredulously. “What?” she asked, her brow furrowed.   
  
Stacey could only sigh and bring her palm to her face, not for the first time that trip and certainly not for the last.  
  


> **Well, whatever! I guess she’ll never change. But I’ll still**
> 
> **never forget our amazing trip to Damballah Island! - Stacey**
> 
>  


End file.
